ozss 


CLASS   DAY. 


1860. 


ccTa  \m 

u::;v::::rY  OF  ii. 


/\   .V 


EXEECISES 


ON 


CLASS  DA,!^  Ko 


AT 


DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE, 


TUESDAY,  JULY  24,  1860, 


FINIS    CORONAT    OPUS. 


HANOVER : 

PUBLISHED   BY   VOTE    OF   THE    CLASS, 

August 1860. 


Oartntoiith  Press,  Hanover,  N.  H. 


(.'LASvSMATKvS  ! 

The  duty  devolvinti;  upon  your  Secretary  has  been  per- 
formed, with  the  utmost  possible  care  and  speed,  —  the  prompt 
and  very  appropriate  action  of  the  Class  enabling  him  to  escape 
the  delays  and  obstacles  usually  inia voidable.  He  has  done  his 
best  .and  so  has  the  printer.  And  there  only  remains  to  await  the 
criticism  of  the  Class,  which  surely  will  be  candid  and,  it  is 
hoped,  favorable. 

Classmates  I  We  are  separated  forever  ;  and  although  we 
•jiay  regret,  we  have  yet  cause  to  be  glad.  Let  us  congratulate 
ourselves  that  we  have  been  always  united  ;  -  and  on  this  ac- 
count, in  great  part,  gained  for  our  Class  Day  the  unmixed 
j)raises  of  all.  Your  thanks  are  in  the  highest  degree  due  to 
those  who,  witli  so  much  ability,  sustained  the  burden  of  the  day 
and  gained  for  you,  as  well  as  for  themselves,  so  much  honor. 

Finally,  brothers,  let  not  the  Secretary  be  so  in  name  only  ; 
inform  him  of  your  doings  —  a^iid  pax-  oohlseum.  F.   C. 


ORDER. 


The  Procession  formed  at  3  o'clock,  P.  M.,  at  the  Chapel  and 
inarched  to  Prof.  Sanborn's,  thence,  with  him  under  escort,  to 
the  Church,  where  were  had  the  following  exercises : — 

1.  Prayer,  5.  Poem. 

2.  Music.  6.  Music. 

3.  Oration.  7.  Chronicles. 

4.  Music.  8.  Prophecies. 

9.     Ode,  sung  by  the  Class. 
10.     Benediction. 

The  procession  then  formed  and  marched  to  the  President's, 
and,  after  the  Orations  there,  to  the  Old  Pine,  where  the  pipe  of 
peace  was  smoked  during  the  Address. 

The  Class  then  marched  to  the  Chapel,  disbanded,  and  visited 
informally  the  recitation  rooms  in  order. 


( )  II  A  1^  J  O  N^ 

BY  KICHAKD  11.  STONE. 


Our  life  is  a  perpetual  change  ;  were  it  not  so,  to-day  had 
been  as  yesterday,  and  life  itself  a  blank.  From  the  cradle  to 
the  grave  there  is  an  endless  flow  of  vicissitude  and  unrest.  We 
cannot  hope  that  eternity  will  be  unchangeable  ;  if  so,  we  must 
wish  ourselves  insensate  clods.  Endowed  perhaps  with  attri- 
butes like  the  monads  of  the  philosophers,  floating  through  an 
infinite  ether  in  a  dreamy,  stupid  felicity  —  a  heaven  more  sen- 
sual than  the  Elysium  of  the  Mussulman  —  an  existence  wilder 
and  more  unconscious  than  the  vagaries  of  the  opium-cater, 
whose  disordered  brain  gathers  all  the  past  and  the  future  into 
the  present,  and  receiving  this  as  the  supremest  excellence,  half 
insensible,  insensibly,  floating  on  alone,  forever.  No  !  Such  an 
idle  dream  we  cannot  tolerate  ;  but,  rejoicing  in  the  conscious- 
ness that  immortal  progress  is  before  us,  we  have  come  hither 
to-day. 

These  retreats,  wherein  we  have  walked  and  mused  —  the 
centre  around  which  we  have  for  a  time  revolved ;  that  have 
witnessed*  our  delights,  and  follies,  and  shame  ;  our  fancies, 
idle  dreams,  speculations,  and  sterner  thoughts,  can  hold  us  no 
longer.  Elate  and  yet  sad  we  snufl"  the  spirit  of  the  v/orld  be- 
yond, and  its  marching  cry  "  progress"  rings  in  our  ears.  The 
wide  future  is  before  us,  full  of  splendid  possibilities.  Well 
may  it  be  for  us,  if  in  the  hurry  and  rush  of  life,  we  shall  find 
seasons  of  calm  weather,  when  asking  ourselves  the  questions  — 
whence  come  and  whither  tend  we  ?  —  we  can  catch  sight  of 
that  immortal  sea  which  brought  us  hither.  Says  Seneca  — 
"  Ulysses  had  but  one  rock  to  fear,  but  human  life  has  many." 
Fools  then  are  they,  who  would  set   forth    in  ships,  grandly 


6 

freighted,  trustiu;:  tluniselves  to  the  treacherous  sea  without  a 
rudder  to  guide  th»Mn  in  their  course  !  Of  what  avail  to  them 
are  compass  and  cludi,  the  cynosure  ever  gleamhig  ahove  the 
Pole  !  The  guidiui:  principle  is  wanting,  and  by  as  much  as  the 
shi})  is  more  statvlv  rlian  the  ten-thousand  other  common  barks 
that  every  gale  drlv«\s  before  it  —  the  quicker  hastens  its  de- 
struction, the  niort'  aggravated  is  its  ruin.  Rightly  do  men 
hold  the  autho)->  <>r  such  waste  and  folly  to  a  stern  account. 
They  give  them  an  infamous  name,  and  doom  them  to  everlast- 
ing contempt. 

Classmates  I  MuTaris  mutandis,  and  we  are  the  ships  —  life's 
voyage  before  us  —  each  of  us  assured  that  the  halcyon  days 
are  passed  —  seeing  that  the  jjatli  over  which  we  must  go,  is 
strewn  with  wrecks  —  none  of  us  so  stolid  as  not  to  know  the 
proper  course  —  compass  and  chart  in  our  hands  —  the  heavens 
ever  shining  above  us — what  shall  be  the  guide  of  our  lives? 
fl>(/.()(joqiu  Btov  Ki'-iiorijiriL^  answei'  the  wise  men  of  antiquity. 
But  then  the  wor-ld  was  narrow,  ambition  limited,  and  the  study 
of  philoso|)hy  was  but  tracking  to  their  source  the  rays  of  light 
that  had  begun  to  pUiy  and  glinuner  above  the  horizon,  betoken- 
ing the  full  incoininii  day.  They  could  not  but  do  it.  Said  one 
of  their  greatest  minds,  "  if  we  must  philosophize,  we  must  phi- 
losophize ;  if  we  must  not  philosophize,  we  must  philosophize  ;  in 
any  case,  therefore,  we  must  philosophize."  But  in  our  day  the 
world  lies  open,  an(i  he  who  would  take  it  nnist  be  no  idle  dream- 
er. ''Felix  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causas,"  with  them  was 
a  first  principle,  a.  parr  of  their  creed,  without  which  none  could 
arrive  at  the  "  pure  abodes  above,  live  without  bodies,  in  habita- 
tions beautiful,  and  not  easy  to  describe."  With  ms,  happy  is  he 
who  knows  the  tilings  themselves  and  can  hold  them  in  posses- 
sion ;  let  the  causes  go  to  the  winds,  and  philosophy  has  fallen 
into  bad  repute.  VVe  cast  it  aside,  and  if  we  still  ask  for  a 
guide,  the  theologian  cries,  "take  Revelation  —  the  example  of 
the  great  Teach e?-.  and  it  shall  be  before  you  as  a  cloud  by 
day,  a  pillar  of  fire  by  night."  V'es!  but  in  this  we  shall  dis- 
agree, and  it  would  ill  become  me  to  tarry  here.  I  leave  it  to 
the  divine  and  eacli  man's  own  heart.  But  we  shall  go  forth,  and 
none  of  us  so  abajnlonpd  as  not  to  wish  for  success,  or  so  beliov- 


\ng  in  a  blind  fatality  as  to  expect  to  attain  ii  l»v  lyin<r  supinely, 
drifting  with  every  \Nind  and  current.  I/»<V  is  a  sacred,  an  aw- 
ful responsibility.     It  will  not  do  to  say  of  ii  \^itll  the  poet:  — 

•'  If  I  do  loso  thee.  I  do  lose  a  thin<.' 
That  none  but  fools  would  keep." 

Wo  must  make  it  a  positive  good,  fu-  i>\\\\  by  so  doing,  can 
we  hope  that  our  future  life  will  be  a  gain.  Stai-ting  then  with 
this  belief,  that  without  some  guiding  priiuiplc  ne  cannot  expect 
to  attain  the  dignity  of  true  ma.nhood,  and  als«;  that  each  of  us 
is  wiUing  to  submit  to  such  a.  dii-ecthig  p<»\^er.  if  it  shall  seem 
agreeable  —  would  that  I  might  say  wise  —  (hen  there  were  no 
need  of  words.  I  beg  your  indulgence  tor  :;  few  passhig  mo- 
ments in  considering  Utilitarianism  as  a  guide  <»f  life. 

I  have  not  the  vanity  to  expect  that  any  word  that  I  may  ut- 
ter will  be  worthy  of  remembrance  by  you.  We  know  whence 
are  the  oracles.  Do  not  expect  words  of  \\isdoMi  from  one  who 
has  not  "  the  years  that  bring  the  philosophi*;  mind." 

But  if  I  may  awaken  one  not  unworthy  thought,  so  that  in 
coming  time,  when  the  memory  of  college  days  shall  come  flood- 
ing upon  you,  this  hour  may  be  honored  with  a  pleasing  recol- 
lection, my  purpose  will  be  accomplished. 

In  this  age,  when  every  new,  and  every  (Ad  thing  is  met  by 
the  question  —  cui  bono?  when  utilitarianisui  does  guide  the 
movements  of  men,  it  may  seem  a  work  of  supererogation  to  call 
your  attention  to  it.  It  were  so,  did  the  surface  plainly  indicate 
the  condition  of  the  interior.  We  know  that  to  the  scientific 
mind  it  does.  But  the  world  are  sciolists  —  tilings  are  not  what 
they  seem  to  them.  Have  we  learned  norhing  else  from  our 
Alma  Mater  but  to  distinguish  Heeming  from  being,  our  years 
have  not  been  ill-spent.  Though  we  can  speak  with  tongues 
and  are  the  veriest  scholars  and  have  not  this,  we  may  well 
question  her  wisdom,  or  be  humiliated  by  our  own  littleness. 
Plainly  there  is  a  false  as  well  as  a  true  utility.  It  might  at 
first  seem  that  their  courses  would  be  so  diverse,  that  no  one 
would  mistake  the  false  for  the  true,  but  the  records  of  all  time 
declare  otherwise.  It  is  an  eternal  truth,  that  •'  there  is  a  way 
that  seemeth  right  to  a  man,  but  the   end   thereof  is  death." 


8 

Truth  and  error  from  their  source  travel  side  bj  side,  and  he 
must  be  a  careful  observer  who  would  discover  their  point  of  di- 
vergence. Unwittingly  men  take  either  course,  and  we  by 
searching  can  exhume  from  all  the  dead  past  the  fossil  remains 
of  honest,  easy  souls.  They  shipwrecked  early,  and  we  give 
them  pity  ;  others  we  find  whom  a  kind  of  fatality  protected,  a 
star  of  destiny  led  them  on ;  they  trod  under  foot  the  world  for 
a  season,  and  in  pride  of  life,  and  contempt  for  fellow  man  they 
said,  "  we  do  indeed  sit  upon  the  summit  of  Babel  and  are  as 
gods."  But  the  avenging  Nemesis  comes  sooner  or  later  and 
now  they  stand,  in  the  galleries  of  the  illustrious  dead,  truly  ; 
but  like  Niobe,  a  mournful  memorial  —  a  fearful  warning. 
Be  ye  not  like  unto  them.  Naturally  we  love  the  hero.  Invol- 
untarily we  pay  homage  to  the  godlike.  But  men  are  always 
forgetting  that  the  hero  does  not  make  himself.  The  true  hero 
believes  each  man  better  than  himself.  He  can  bide  his  time. 
By  morbidly  brooding  over  some  dark  feature  of  human  life  men 
become  monomaniacs.  Forgetting  the  old  maxim,  "  There  are 
many  wand-bearers,  but  few  inspired,"  which  has  gathered  con- 
firmation from  the  ages,  that  was  reiterated  by  divine  lips,  they 
are  wild  in  the  belief  that  in  the  counsels  of  eternal  truth  they 
are  the  chosen  vessels ;  and  it  often  proves  true,  but  of  wrath. 
They  are  swift  to  trample  under  foot  law  and  religion,  professing 
forsooth  allegiance  to  a  higher  law  and  a  more  recent  revelation. 
They  are  never  wanting  followers.  Nature  is  ever  true  to  her- 
self. Vultures  hover  over  battle-fields.  When  law  and  justice 
rise  and  sweep  from  the  earth  these  frantic  dreamers,  shall  we 
by  afibrding  to  them  a  sickly,  sentimental  pity  —  nay  worse,  by 
deifying  them,  invite  others  to  the  same  ruin  ?  Law  and  justice 
will  ever  sit  heavily  upon  such  men,  while  the  two  go  hand  in 
hand.  Separate  them,  and  a  return  to  barbarism  is  not  only 
possible,  but  probable ;  nay,  sure.  The  end  of  such  lives  re- 
veals the  hollo wness  of  their  pathway,  and  from  it  there  glares  a 
lurid  beacon  —  for  the  end  is  death. 

Cicero  by  his  scorching  declamation  gained  for  himself  a 
name  and  fame.  Candid  minds  now  accord  the  earnest  purpose 
of  correcting  abuses,  to  the  Cataline  brood.     The  great  orators 


9 

ambition  cost  him  his  life,  and  for  centuries  his  faults  were 
veiled,  his  virtues  only  remembered ;  but  now  Verres,  Cataline 
and  Mark  Antony  confront  their  great  calumniator,  and  bringing 
each  before  him  there  are  not  wanting  those  who  pronounce  the 
exile  the  better  man.  Each  in  his  station  and  time  followed 
seeming  expediency,  and  the  long  run  has  demonstrated  its  shal- 
lowness and  falsity. 

Sailing  in  the  popular  current,  and  principle  is  not  the  rud- 
der, brilliant  and  swift  may  be  the  course,  but  the  darkness  that 
follows  the  meteor's  path  is  like  the  grave  —  a  gloom. 

Time  dims  the  sanctity  that  surrounds  the  lives  of  the  great 
dead.  They  have  become  as  mummies.  The  world  no  longer 
heeds  their  cry —  "  procul  este,  profani !  "  The  market-places 
of  men  hawk  their  secrets  as  merchandise-curiosity  lays  open 
their  tombs.  The  silence  of  the  pyramids  is  broken  by  strange 
voices.  Memnon  is  no  longer  a  mystery.  We  can  gain  a 
cheap  fame  by  solving  the  riddle  of  the  Sphinx,  or  by  drinking 
crocodile's  tears  with  the  shades  of  Egyptian  kings.  We  may 
deceive  ourselves  and  our  generation,  but  are  we  worthy  of  re- 
membrance ?  We  shall  soon  be  assigned  our  true  place.  Our 
fathers  were  taught  that  Newton  was  an  embodiment  of  the  vir- 
tues —  a  saint  upon  the  earth  —  an  angel  in  disguise  ;  but  we 
have  learned  that  his  life  was  checkered  like  other  men's  with 
envy,  with  malice,  with  fretful  peevishness.  Pope  with  a  stroke 
of  the  pen,  had  well  nigh  consigned  to  everlasting  ignominy  the 
most  august  philosopher  the  world  has  known,  but  now  the  world 
flouts  the  poet,  and  says  "  canst  thou  cast  the  first  stone  ?"  Ne- 
ro and  Judas  have  their  advocates,  and  though  we  cannot  for- 
give, we  could  have  wished  better  things  of  them.  MoraUsts 
tell  us  there  is  nothing  so  humble,  so  grand,  but  that  it  teaches 
its  lesson.  From  this  we  can  see  that  no  man  loses  his  human 
nature.  The  sage  and  the  saint  we  find  to  have  been  but  men. 
Now  we  can  sympathize,  pity ;  before  we  could  only  worship, 
wonder.  Him  whom  we  thought  a  fiend  incarnate,  we  find  to 
have  been  but  a  man  after  all,  with  like  passions  as  we.  So 
time  equalizes  and  assigns  to  each  his  true  grade.  We  see  the 
errors  of  the  great  who  have  gone  before  us  ;  the  common  herd — 
2 


10 

their  followers,  wild,  turbulent,  have  passed  away  leaving  no 
name.     History  lumps  them  together  and  hurries  them  by. 

Though  we  believe  that  "  through  the  ages  one  eternal  pur- 
pose runs,"  yet  that  which  is  past  is  a  type  of  what  is  and  shall 
be.  The  same  drama  goeth  on  to  the  end  of  the  world,  and 
whether  we  be  in  the  first  or  fifth  act  —  who  can  tell?  Disap- 
pointed ambition  still  vexes  the  later  years  of  many  of  the  great- 
est and  best.  Their  ways  are  not  ways  of  pleasantness,  neither 
are  their  paths  peace.  We  may  charitably  ignore  their  infirmi- 
ties, but  history  must  record  them. 

"  Better  rule  in  hell,  than  serve  in  heaven  !"  Do  we  believe 
it  ?  High-sounding  words  indeed  and,  like  their  fabled  author, 
commanding.  But  in  our  better  hours,  is  there  not  a  sweeter, 
more  potent  influence  in  those  words  of  almost  divine  philosophy, 
"To  be  nameless  in  worthy  deeds  exceeds  an  infamous  history?" 
Bays  Sir  Thomas  Browne  :  "  Who  would  not  rather  have  been 
the  good  thief  than  Pontius  Pilate  ?  The  Canaanitish  woman 
lives  better  without  a  name  than  Herodias  with  one." 

None  of  us  are  so  imbecile  that  we  may  not  command  a 
shameless  history.  Becoming  men  of  one  questionable  purpose, 
whether  it  be  the  pursuit  of  an  unwise  philanthropy,  a  love  of 
gain,  of  power  or  licentious  freedom  we  may  attempt  driving  it 
forward  and  through  all  opposition.  Is  not  this  the  growing 
melancholy  fashion  of  our  times  ?  With  this  one  object  before 
us  —  with  minds  vulcanized  against  every  lesson  of  the  past  — 
passing  with  silent  contempt  the  admonitions  of  older  and  wiser 
heads  —  casting  aside  with  a  sneer  the  warnings  of  Revelation, 
we  can  become  famous — yes,  infamous.  Is  this  merely  a  fan- 
cy sketch  ?  Let  us  not  measure  the  great  world  by  the  little 
circumference  that  limits  our  vision.  But  go  into  the  haimts 
of  men  and  we  may  see  thousands  whose  course  is  as  the  orbit 
of  a  comet — who  have  passed  the  perihelion;  now  the  door 
is  shut  —  henceforth  their  way  is  into  the  unknown.  Have 
we  faith  to  believe  that  at  sometime  in  the  coming  eternities, 
they  will  return  to  the  sun  —  the  source  of  light !  No !  an  in- 
nate scepticism  forbids  it. 

Turn  we  now  gladly  to  the  more  pleasing  part  of  our  subject ; 


11 

and  briefly,  for  it  has  been  to  little  purpose  thus  far,  if  the  oppo- 
site shall  not  readily  suggest  itself.  Amid  all  the  glitter  and 
sham  of  life,  is  there  not  a  true  utility,  takhig  which  as  a  guide, 
we  may  safely  thread  its  tortuous  passage,  and  stand  complete 
at  last  '^  upon  the  hills  of  God  ?"  In  all  the  range  of  our  exist- 
ence, which  recalls  the  past,  which  anticipates  the  future,  which 
delves  to  the  very  centre  of  the  earth,  which  expands  into,  and 
beyond  all  this  wide  reach  of  air,  can  there  not  be  found  a  mild, 
fixed  utile,  more  alluring  even  to  a  mind  that  ever  indulges 
a  serious  thought  than  the  dazzling,  planetary  inutile  ?  Yes  1 
in  sober  hours  our  hearts  have  assured  us  of  it ;  to  gainsay  it 
were  to  court  despair.  Fancy  may  have  pictured  the  beauty  of 
the  way,  and  the  delights  that  attend  ;  but  the  old  maxim  of  the 
rose  and  the  thorn  is  eternal.  Do  we  not  know  that  good  and 
evil  always  go  hand  in  hand  ?  Are  not  the  saddest  moments 
ofttimes  the  happiest?  Joy  and  sorrow  dignify  and  ennoble 
each  other.  In  what  does  this  true  utility  consist  ?  Surely  noi; 
in  idleness  —  else  are  the  beaver  and  the  bear  in  their  liberation 
types  of  the  highest  possible  existence.  Sleep  is  made  by  the 
poets  a  beautiful,  beneficent  goddess.  But  stripped  of  all  poet- 
ry, what  else  is  it  than  a  living  death  ?  We  turn  with  a  shud- 
der from  the  thought  that  death  may  be  an  eternal  sleep.  That 
it  will  form  no  part  of  a  higher  existence  is  a  sublime  anticipa- 
tion—  "  and  there  shall  be  no  night  there." 

The  last  half  century  has  indeed  taken  wonderful,  almost  mi- 
raculous strides,  and  prophecy  for  the  future  is  wild.  The  spirit 
of  the  age  is  extravagant  —  conservatism  pronounces  it  mad. 
But  "  Young  America"  and  old  fogyism  are  agreed  that  work 
makes  the  man.  We  hope  to  make  wonderful  discoveries  —  we 
expect  to  devise  marvellous  inventions,  but  no  one  is  so  visionary 
as  to  predict  an  era  when  passing  through  galleries  filled  with 
the  dusty  records  and  wisdom  of  ages,  we  may  by  some  subtle 
chemistry  of  soul  precipitate  the  knowledge  therein  contained 
into  our  minds.  El-Dorado,  The  Philosopher's  stone,  The 
Fountain  of  eternal  youth  we  entertain  only  as  delicious  day- 
dreams. Vainly  we  wish  when  we  see  an  Irving,  a  Humboldt, 
a  Macaulay — "names  that  contain  a  moiety  of  the  world"  — 


12 

passing  from  us,  that  as  tlie  mantl  e  of  Elijah  fell  upon  Elisha,  so 
by  some  metempsychosis  their  wisdom  and  virtue  might  descend 
to  us.  We  should  be  sad  when  Ave  think,  "  Each  man  for  him- 
self," did  we  not  remember,  "  God  for  us  all." 

But  looking  at  this  dispassionately,  we  shall  not  pronounce  it 
a  curse.  We  shall  see  that  could  we  avoid  it  a  ten-fold  evil 
would  be  ours.  The  search  for  truth  has  ever  been  the  privi- 
lege and  delight  of  high-born  souls.  To  them  the  past  and  the 
present  are  true  —  the  future  only  is  magnificent. 

"  Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be  blest."  What  say  the 
philosophers?  Says  one — ''If  I  held  truth  captive  in  my 
hand,  I  should  open  my  hand  and  let  it  fly,  in  order  that  I  might 
again  pursue  and  capture  it." 

Says  another — "  Did  the  Almighty,  holding  in  his  right  hand 
Truths^  and  in  his  left,  Search  after  Truth,  deign  to  tender  me 
the  one  I  might  prefer,  in  all  humility,  but  without  hesitation, 
I  should  request  Search  after  Truth."  And  still  another  —  "  It 
is  not  the  goal,  but  the  course,  which  makes  us  happy."  Each 
but  reiterating  the  sad  plaint  of  the  Latin  poet  uttered  centuries 
before :  — 

•*  Quaesivit  coelo  lucem,  ingemuitque  reperta." 

But  truth  holds  her  court  in  fairy  land,  as  well  as  along  the 
dusty  ways  of  men.  Are  we  prepared  to  say  that  the  poets 
have  simg  only  a  fable  ?  If  their  most  aerial  sublimations  seem 
far  above  the  ploddings  of  every  day  life,  it  is  far  from  a  true 
utility  that  will  cast  them  aside  as  worthless.  But  with  a  stead- 
fast purpose  we  shall  wait  till  the  inspiration  of  love  shall  open 
the  temple  doors  and  reveal  to  us  the  inner  shrine  ;  and  if  we 
can  give  credence  to  the  testimony  of  many  true  souls,  we  shall 
come  forth  inspired,  and  though  we  may  remain  mute  prophets, 
the  world  and  all  it  contains  shall  be  clothed  with  a  diviner  beau- 
ty for  us. 

We  cannot  live  by  the  dull  mechanic  trades  alone.  The  same 
beaten  path  from  youth  to  age  is  not  for  us.  A  true  utility  de- 
mands a  wider  range.  If  we  be  dreamers,  poetry  and  fiction 
shall  take   the  many  otherwise  dull   and  weary  hours,  giving 


13 

to  the  years  an  aii-y  tread,  while  fancy  with  weird  or  fairy  pace 
in  revory  shall  range 

"  Doo})  umlergrounJ,  or  in  the  upper  air, 
On  the  slirill  wind  of  niidniglit,  or  where  floats 
O'er  twilight  fields  the  autumnal  gossamer." 

.Be  we  practical  men,  and  imagination  a  thing  of  youth,  history 
and  biography  shall  be  the  companions  of  our  leisure  hours,  an<l 
with  the  least  sprinkling  of  speculation,  w^e  may  arouse  the  sleep- 
ing past  into  magical  life.  Classmates  !  let  us  go  forth  and  as- 
sume as  our  birth-right  the  world  !  "  All  that  the  opulent  Easf, 
the  perfumed  Arabia,  the  deUcate  Assyria,  the  fertile  Afiica, 
the  beautiful  Spain  and  the  "  courageous  Gaul  produce"  or 
contain,  is  ours ;  and  now  we  may  add  to  these  the  magnificent 
Americas  —  an  epitome  of  them  all. 

''We  are  living 
In  a  grand  and  awful  time, 
In  an  age  on  ages,  telling; 
To  be  living  is  sublime." 

Let  us  go  forth  as  men,  neither  expecting  to  find  all  our  hopes 
realized,  nor  disheartened  by  the  long  delay.  In  the  world's 
great  lazar-house  Ave  may  often  be  held  in  quarantine  for  a  sea- 
son, but  be  we  true  men  the  miasma  that  taints  us  shall  be  dissi- 
pated, we  purified,  and  the  experience  of  our  lives  shall  not 
prove  a  curse  to  the  world. 

The  artist  Cole  has  rendered  his  name  immortal  by  his  paint- 
ing, "The  Voyage  of  Life."  Infancy  —  Youth  —  Manhood  — 
Old  Age.  Laughing  Infancy  in  a  bark,  gaily  bedight  holds  its 
way  through  flowery  fields.  Youth  —  with  its  airy  castles  and 
dreams  of  love,  presses  on.  Manhood  —  and  dangers  are  show- 
ered thick  and  fast,  but  a  good  Divinity  guides  the  voyager. 
Old  Age  —  the  hour-glass,  is  broken  ;  the  rudder  decayed  ;  the 
ocean  around  bleak,  lurid,  but  above  his  head  is  a  thronged  and 
shining  way. 


14 

The  Theologian  may  see  in  this  only  the  moral  sublimity  of 
the  idea  ;  a  well-spent  life.  The  Amateur  only  the  beauty  and 
splendor  of  the  coloring  ;  one  shall  behold  only  the  conception  ; 
another  the  execution  ;  others  there  are  who  shall  deem  it  all  a 
waste  and  folly. 

Need  we  be  confined  to  this  ?  May  we  not  behold  in  it  a 
type  of  a  utilitarianized  Hfe,  which  in  the  issue  proves  a  true  life  ? 

Thus  going  on  our  way,  despising  not  life's  amenities  and  joys, 
grappling  with  and  overcoming  its  harsher  phases,  we  shall  come 
to  the  sunset  of  our  existence  and  as  we  pass  beyond,  our  sor- 
row shall  be  tinged  with  joy,  as  we  catch  the  refrain  of  the  old 
Eastern  poet :  — 

"  How  sad  were  the  sunset,  were  we  not  sure  of  a  to-mor- 
row 1 " 


POEM. 

BY  HENRY  C.  NEWELL 


Profusion  in  Nature  we  find,  if  with  care 

We  seek  for  analogies  never  so  rare, 

Whether  we  from  our  Fancy  draw  the  ideal, 

Or  though  Reason  and  Logic  search  out  the  real. 

Full  lavish  the  Author  of  Nature  doth  show 

His  methods  unfolding,  to  man,  here  below 

Not  merely  in  whirlwinds,  tornadoes,  and  storms, 

Convulsions,  destruction,  and  general  reforms, 

Not  only  in    shops  of  the  Cyclops  of  old, 

Where  the  Ancients  distinctly  (so  I  have  been  told,) 

Hear  the  furnace's  blast,  as  the  Circle-Eyed  forge 

Their  thunderbolts  red,  dow^n  in  deep-gullied  gorge, 

While  with  wonder  they  view,  amid  flashes  of  flame, 

Great  Jove  'mong  the  nations  his  judgments  proclaim 

Not  only  in  battles,  whence  thousands  retire 

To  self-built  mausoleums,  their  funeral  pyre, 

Nor  from  cities  long-buried,  disgorging  a  gem 

To  enlighten  the  minds  of  inquisitive  men. 

But  in  forest,  in  river,  in  ocean,  in  glade, 

In  valley   or  mountain,  in  sunshine  or  shade, 

In  the  rain  or  the  snow,  the  dew  or  the  hail, 

In  the  springs  of  the  hillside,  whose  rills  never  fail, 

In  the  lily  by    brookside,  or  giant  old  oak, 

From  which  God  Apollo  so  anciently  spoke, 

In  those  twittering  fledglets  around  our  own  home. 

No  less  than  those  vultures  that  circled  o'er  Rome, 

Those  unmeaning  twelve,  that  so  strangely  declared. 

On  the  Palatine  Hill,  that  the  God  had  prepared 

The  site  for  an  Empire  ;-  an  Empire  so  vast, 


16 

That  in  whatever  portion  of  earth  we  are  cast, 
We  hold  converse  of  Rome,  at  school  or  in  College, 
Whether  we  in  the  valley  or  highway  of  knowledge 
Seek  for  honor  distinguished  of  leading  our  Class, 
Or  move  carelessly  on  with  the  dream-loving  mass. 
The  falling  of  apple,  and  chandeliers'  swing, 
To  the  mind  of  attention,  deep  messages  bring, — 
The  sere  leaf  of  autumn,  the  mammoth,  as  well 
As  the  veriest  insect,  but  one  lesson  tell  — 
All,  all,  are  but  portions  of  th'  Infinite  plan 
To  develop  a  perfect,  "  Symmetrical  Man." 

The  stars  in  magnitude  differ, —  still  bright 
They  shed  for  us  each,  its  respective  Hght  ; 
Created  so  at  first,  -  why  God,  in  his  plan, 
Made  such  distinction,  merely  finite   man 
Could  ne'er  discover  —  yet  compelled  to  grant, 
According  to  that  sense  he  did  implant 
Within  our  inmost  soul,  The  Infinite, 
For  purpose  good,  we  can,  we  must  admit, 
Made  all  things  as  they  are,  the  earth,  the  sun, 
The  moon,  the  stars,  each  and  every  one 
Of  all  those  countless  creatures  that  fulfill 
The  plan  suggestive  of  his  Sovereign  will. 
Nor  do  we  find  among  the  birds  that  sweep 
Their  swift-cut  courses  through  the  azure  deep 
Exact  resemblance  —  differing  in  forms 
As  well  as  hues  :  there,  too,  are  many  swarms 
Ephemeral,  that  with    da^n  wake  to  the  light, 
But  cease  to  be,  ere  closing  shades  of  night. 
Each  has  its  sphere  to  move  in,  each  must  stay 
Within  the  limits  set : —  woful  was  that  day. 
When  unfledged  tortoise  dared  that  dizzy  height, 
Where  nought  but  eagles'  clear  and  undimmed  sight 
Can,  with  unflinching  gaze,  serenely  bear 
The  sun's  unclouded  rays,  its  dazzling  glare. 

Mankind  perhaps  differ  as  much  as  to  place, 
Climate  and  soil,  constitution  and  race, 


17 

As  what  we've  considered  ;  we  cannot  suppose 

'I'lie  same  will  apply,  both  to  these  and  to  those, 

For  we  know  this  gross  nature  of  brutes  is  the  whole, 

But  man  has  a  mind,  an  immortal  soul. 

So,  though  the  analogy  holds  good,  for  the  base 

Substance,  the  body  —  it  cannot  be  the  case 

Res[)ecting  the  soul,  that  image  Divine 

Of  ilim,  who  created  in  heaven  to  shine 

Those  lights,  which,  in  orbits  exclusive  their  own, 

Own  one  common  centre — Th'  Omnipotent's  throne. 

No  more  can  the  physical  part  elevate 

Itself  by  false  methods,  so  better  its  state, 

Than  the  creature  just  mentioned  ;  let  me  mention  one, 

Who  with  confidence  ventured  too  near  the  sun 

On  \vings  that  belonged  to  a  brute,  without  knowledge, 

Fell,  I  fear  as  did  we  who  used  "  Ponies"  in  College, 

His  dark  record  of  folly  forever  will  be 

Expressed  by  this  name,  "  The  Icarian  Sea." 

Gymnasiums  scattered  all  over  our  land 

Afford  to  the  student  occasion 

To  develop   the  muscle,  —  an  excellent  plan 

For  defending  one's-self  from  abrasion, 

Which  in  life  now-a-days  we  all  must  expect 

To  share  in,  in  o'erflowing  measure, 

Since  in  streets,  or  in  walks,  in  Congress  or  homes. 

Many  strike  with  effect,  as  a  pleasure, 

Then  develop  the  physical ;  for  he  will  the  best 

Succeed,  who,  by  might  cculd  enforce 

A  man  to  succumb,  if  by  argument,  well  ; 

Yes,  succeed  as  a  matter  of  course, 

No  disgrace,  as  things  are,  to  pick  out  your  man, 

Who  in  stature  's  exceedingly  small, 

Or  deficient  in  courage,  provided  that  you 

Surpass  him  in  strength  —  that  is  all ! 

Be  Henans  or  Sayers,  would  we  receive 

The  patronage  full  of  two  nations, 

If  'mongst  the  heroes  of  these  later  days 


18 

We  wish  for  emoluments,  stations  ; 

But  for  nobler  intent,  it  becomes  us  to  use 

Our  zeal  to  develop  the  body. 

We  ought  not  our  natures  so  basely  abuse, 

As  to  draw  out  our  muscle  to  batter  and  bruise 

Those  who  happen  to  differ  in  general  views. 

And  cannot  our  difference  freely  excuse, 

But  cling  to  their  favorite  hobby  ! 

As  eaglet  at  first  scarcely  dares  to  attempt 

The  edge  of  its  own  narrow  nest, 

Gaining  strength  by  degrees,  with  implicit  trust, 

On  the  wing  that  its  powers  would  test, 

Commits  itself  fully  to  the  guidance  of  her 

That  the  eyrie  constructed,  its  home, 

E'en  assays,  with  its  vision  enlarged,  to  explore 

New  fields,  makes  its  journeys  alone. 

Now  from  nest  to  the  rock,  from    rock  to  the  cliff, 

From  the  cliff  to  the  clouds  it  doth  rise, 

Nor  content  with  the  past,  the  cloud  pierces  through, 

Still  upward  and  on  towards  the  skies  ; 

Now  it  basks  in  continual  sunshine  ;  the  storm. 

Though  with  bolt  lurid-red  it  may  smite 

Through  the  cloud  to  the  cliff,  through  the  cliff  to  the  nc^t 

Whence  began  its  first  wavering  flight, 

Doth  not  harm  it  ;  safely  another  it  guides, 

By  the  methods  it  follows,  the  way 

Which  experience  teaches,  leads  out  of  the  mist 

To  heights  of  continual  day  : — 

So  intellect  feeble,  a  cipher  almost, 

With  doubtings  and  fears,  in  thoir  might, 

Drawn  up  in  dense  column,  seemingly  bent 

To  extinguish  that  glimmering  light, 

Seeks  counsel  of  such  as  have  travelled  the  road, 

Till  aroused  in  its  might,  it  would  test 

The  deep  things  of  Nature,  but,  unlike  the  bird 

That  at  nightfall  its  pinions  must  rest, 

It  stops  not  below  that  curtain  which  veils 


19 

The  regions  of  glory  and  light 
From  these  senses  of  ours,  trusting  in  Faith, 
"  Till  Faith  shall  be  turned  into  sight," 
It  ever  expands,  enlarges  its  scope, 
By  whatever  the  spirit  within, 
Unfolds  to  its  view,  eminently  fit 
To  take  it  where  others  have  been. 
The  glory  of  man  !  —  a  diauiond,  contained 
In  a  casket,  so  noble,  so  fair, 
That  thousands  are  led  by  visible  forms 
To  make  this  external  their  care. 
Now  driven  aside  from  their  course  in  a  skitf, 
The  sport  of  the  wind  and  the  wave, 
They're  stranded  at  last  on  the  quicksands  of  time, 
Unwept  and  unhonored  their  grave. 
No  fashions  survive,  no  butterfly  hues 
Outlast  the  brief  period  of  youth  ; 
No  form  without  substance  can  weather  the  storms, 
Nought  will  stand  the  last  trial  but  truth, 
As  a  river  from  its  mountain  source 
A  rivulet  starts  on  its  course, 
A  tiny  stream  it  downward  flows, 
Gathering  strength  as  onward  goes  ; 
Obstructed,  on  itself  recoils, 
Its  pent-up  water  foams  and  boils, 
Till  bounding  on  its  destined  way, 
\  Its  banks  and  shores  in  ruin  lay  : 

So  mind  immortal  illy  brooks 
The  sham  of  flashy,  fashion's  looks  ; 
It  seeks  true  worth,  advance  it  must, 
Though  these  frail  bodies  turn  to  dust. 
We've  tried  to  train  it,  we've  professed 
To  seek  the  end,   our  acts  expressed, 
Commenced  our  course  in  infancy 
By  learning  first  our  A.  B,  C. 
As  we  progressed  in  strength,  in  knowledge, 
We  sought  expansion,  here  in  College, 


20 

It  well  becomes  both  you  and  me 
To  view  the  past  four  years,  and  see 
If  we've  gained  aught  but  our  A.  B. 

"  The  immortal  mind,  superior  to  his  fate, 
Amid  the  outrage  of  external  things, 
Firm  as  the  solid  base  of  this  great  world, 
llests  on  its  own  foundation.     Blow,  ye  winds  ! 
Ye  waves  !  ye  thunders  !  roll  your  tempests  on  ! 
bhake,  ye  old  pillars  of  the  marble  sky  ! 
Till  all  its  orbs,  and  all  its  vv^orlds  of  fire 
Be  loosened  from  their  seats  :  yet  still  serene 
The  unconquered  mind  looks  down  upon  the  wreck 
And  ever  stronger  as  the  storms  advance, 
Firm  through  the  closing  ruin,  holds  his  way. 
Where  nature  called  him,  to  the  destihed  ifoal." 


o^ 


1  Many,  many,  very  many 
Shadows  o'er  my  memory  pass. 
As  I  turn  to  lasting  friendships 
We  have  formed  within  our  Class. 

2  Ended,  ended,  fairly  ended, 
Is  that  earnest  manly  strife 

We've  experienced  here  at  Dartmouth, 
Through  four  years  of  College  life. 

3  Ended  all  those  flitting  moments, 
All  those  hours  in  Class-Room  spent, 
All  our  vows  of  College  Chapel, 
Earthly  treasures  heavenward  sent. 

4  Ended  all  our  sports  and  pastimes, 
Ended  all  our  common  cares, 
Ended  now  all  hope  of  sleeping 
Till  the  hour  for  College  prayers. 

5  Ended,  doubtless,  that  remittance, 
Sovereign  balm  for  every  ill, 

Ended,  dreams  of  Checks  and  Bank-Notes, 
Antidote  for  College  Bills. 


21 


6  Fortunate  pleas  of  illness  ended, 

When,  iursooth,  tVoin  home  (?)  there  camo 
Perfumed  billet,  with  that  motto  — 
Charity  withholds  Jter  name. 

7  From  those  honored,  dusty  book-slielve-: 
Wisdom  from  ^'  oblivious"  age, 

With  "  original"  in  brackets, 

On  an  old,    but  unthumbed  page  — 

8  Now  forbears  to  furnish  themes, 
Disquisitions  for  the  stage, 
Common  outbursts  of  ''  true  yeniui^'' 
That  success  in  life  presage. 

9  Duty  to  ourselves  and  others 
Calls  us  to  a  broader  sphere, 
What  we  shall  bo,  mere  conjecture, 
"  For  it  doth  not  yet  appear." 

10  Still  we  trust  the  Class  of  'GO. 
Well  equipped  with  armor  bright. 
Will  stand  foremost,  'mong  the  victors 
In  that  coming,  life-long  fight. 

11  As  the  tocsin  strikes  the  signal. 
That  the  foes  of  Truth  advance. 
Manifest  your  Class-Room  spirit, 
Thus  your  well-earned  fame  enhance. 

12  Shall  the  leaders  in  a  conflict 
Shrink  from  duty,  be  afraid  ? 
Shall  the  confidence  placed  in  us. 
For  our  future,  be  betrayed  ? 

13  Shall  the  treasures  we  have  garnered, 
In  the  earth  or   napkin  lie  ? 

Shall  those  germs  of  noble  promise, 
At  the  noontide  droop  and  die  ? 


22 


14  Never,  while  our  Alma  Mater 
Watches  with  its  fostering  care  ; 
Never,  while  our  God  in  heaven 
Hears  our  humble,  earnest  prayer. — 

15  Never,  while  a  thought  of  Dartmouth 
Cheers  our  own  or  others^  hearts  ; 
Never,   till  our  memory  leaves  us, 
Till  each  soul  from  earth  departs. 

16  The  Future  !  'tis  for  us  a  diamond  : 
Will  we  seek  the  gem  within ; 

But  a  rough  and  worthless  pebble 
To  him  who  will  not  strive  to  win. 

17  Time  is  given  —  use  it  rightly, 
Well  employ  its  passing  hour, 
In  your  onward,  onward  journey 
Never  falter,  never  cower. 

18  May  Clotho  be  propitious  to  us, 
Spin  for  each  a  golden  woof, 
May  the  silvered  locks  of  winter 
Of  her  favor  be  full  proof. 

19  Then,  when  Lachesis  shall  apportion 
Out  to  each  what  each  shall  ask. 
When  comes  Atropos  to  sever 

The  *'  Thread  of  Life,"  her  'lotted  task 

20  May  each  soul  bask  in  the  sunshine 
Of  perennial,  blooming  youth, 
Seeking  there,  as  here,  the  knowledge 
Of  immortal,  changeless  Truth. 


C  H  R  O  N  T  C  ] .  E  S. 

BY  LYMAN  B.  HOW. 


We  have  met  to-day,  my  Class-mates,  to  have  our  intellects 
brightened,  our  wits  sharpened,  by  the  Philosophic  Stone;  to 
listen  —  not  to  the  sluggish  streams  flowing  from  the  poetical 
fountains  of  antiquity,  choked  by  the  weeds  of  ages  and  mud- 
died by  the  flounderings  of  numberless  ponies^  but  to  hearken  to 
the  purling  of  Castalian  waters  bubbling  forth  in  harmonious  ca- 
dence from  a  ivell  that  is  ever  New.  We  have  met  to  fish  from 
the  turbid  stream  of  our  College  life  ere  it  rolls  on  to  join  the  ob- 
livious Lethe,  a  few  fossils  to  add  to  the  cabinets  of  our  re-col- 
lections ;  we  have  met  to  extract  from  the  airy  castles  we  have 
been  erecting  during  the  last  four  years,  a  few  specimen  brieks 
and  to  put  up  a  few  busts  in  the  temple  of  Memory. 

You  have  placed  me  here  as  a  sort  of  mirror  to  reflect  ^'  the 
light  of  other  days"  as  it  comes  through  the  polari scope  of  mem- 
ory. The  mirror  is  somewhat  imperfect  —  and  fortunately  so, 
for  were  it  otherwise,  perhaps  an  observation,  of  Lardner  that  "  a 
perfect  reflector  would  be  invisible,"  might  very  soon  be  applica- 
ble, or,  in  other  words,  though  somewhat  plane  now  I  might  be 
"  knocked  concave.''^ 

Owing  to  the  variety  of  the  incidence  there  may  be  some  aber- 
ration, but  I  beseech  you  to  correct  it  by  the  application  of  the 
crystalline  lens  of  your  indulgence. 

"  Opus  aggredior  opimum  casibus,"  but  in  relating  them  I 
shall  endeavor  to  refrain  from  personalities  and  shall  set  down 
nought  in  malice.  "  Tros  Tyriusve  mihi  nullo  discrimine  age- 
tur,"  that  at  the  end  you  may  say  '*  Quam,  dixisti  verum." 

Four  years  ago,  on  a  pleasant  afternoon,  there  might  have 
been  seen  a  hopeful  youth  from  Lime  moving  with  slackened 
pace  along  Faculty  Avenue.     The  Freshmen  shouted  "Pene" 


24 

as  he  [)a.ssed  —  little  tliinking  that  beneath  that  rough  exterior 
tliere  hiy  hidden  a  brilliant  gem  — a  perfect  '' Golgothean  dia- 
mond f  but,  heedless  of  their  threats,  he  paused  not  till,  with 
feai-  and  trembling,  he  knocked  at  the  portals  of  that  "  sanctum 
sanctorum"  —  the  President's  study.  There  he  obtained  permis- 
sion to  call  at  the  houses  of  various  members  of  the  Faculty  after 
exhibiting  that  indisjjensahle  qualification -- 2.  certij&cate  of  good 
moral  character.  He  was  called  upon  to  read  for  the  edification 
of  the  Profs,  by  whom  his  knowledge  was  called  into  question,  a 
few  extracts  from  the  Bucolics,  to  give  the  rule  for  the  ablative 
absolute  and  the  gender  of  a  few  neuter  nouns,  to  unravel  a  few 
lines  of  Homer  and  give  the  rule  of  three,  and  it  is  hardly  neces- 
sary for  me  to  add  that,  like  the  worthies  in  the  furnace,  he 
passed  the  fiery  ordeal  triumphantly  and  was  soon  seen  emerging 
from  the  Treasurer's  office  with  a  light  heart— and  pockei>-book. 
I  would  not  have  alluded  at  so  great  length  to  this  event  had  it 
not  seemed  to  be  pecuHarly  appropriate  that  the  hero  of  it  should 
have  been  the  first  to  be  enrolled  on  the  Hst  of  the  class  of  1860, 
because  he  has  since  distinguished  himself  not  only  by  his  schol- 
arship, but  by  his  commentary  on  the  "  apostle  Jacob;'  and  his 
surprising  skill  in  playing  on  wind  instruments. 

About  four  years  ago,  sixty  unsophisticated  young  men,  con- 
stituting the  Class  of  '60,  met  in  that  part  of  Dartmouth  Hall 
which  is  used  alternately  as  a  Freshman  recitation-room,  as  a 
pen  for  cows  and  horses,  and  as  a  cage  for  keeping  a  certain 
kind  of  quadruped  described  as  "  nocturnally  predacious"  — 
these  varieties  of  animals  having  been  often  accommodated  with 
lodgings  in  this  room  by  the  kindness  of  their  friends  in  the  Soph- 
omore Class.  We  met  to  hsten  to  an  eloquent  lecture  on  the  du- 
ties and  privileges  of  students,  and  our  tender  hearts  were  at  that 
time  so  susceptible  of  impression  that,  at  its  close,  we  all  went 
out  on  tip-toe  —  each  one  of  us  silently  resolving  to  prepare  all 
our  lessons  thoroughly,  never  to  absent  ourselves  from  the  Chapel 
exercises,  never  to  whisper  in  recitation,  and  firmly  determined 
to  lead  the  Class,  or  at  least  attain  that  acme  of  a  good  Fresh- 
man's ambition  — the  Phi  Beta-ship.  Already,  in  our  hopeful 
imaginations,  we  saw  ourselves  greeted  by  our  instructors  with 
approving  smiles,  and  as  we  walked  the  streets  of  our  native 


25 

towns  and  villages  in  the  majesty  of  conscious  talent,  fond  moth- 
ers caught  their  children  to  their  breasts  and  exclaimed,  "  Es- 
say to  emulate  the  erudite  acumen  of  yonder  perambulating  Phi 
Beta,  that  you  may  be  the  recipient  of  the  homologation  of  the 
literati,  and  occasion  the  heart  of  your  maternal  parent  to  pul- 
sate with  irrepressible  oblectation."  But  alas !  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  some  of  us  have  not  adhered  to  our  determinations  and  some 
few  of  us  have  not  seen  our  dreams  realized.  The  airy  castles 
which  we  fondly  hoped  would  bloom  into  reality  have  been  sun- 
struck  by  the  pestilential  avalanche  of  the  consuming  wave  of  in- 
evitable disappointment. 

"  Wliere,  O  where  are  the  visions  of  morning, 
Fresh  as  the  dews  of  our  prime  ? 
Gone,  like  tenants  that  quit  without  warning, 
Down  the  bade  entry  of  time." 

*' Die-away  dreams  of  ecstatic  emotion, 
Hopes  like  young  eagles  at  play, 
Vows  of  unheard-of  and  endless  devotion, 
How  ye  have  faded  away  !" 

Among  those  who  were  assembled  on  that  eventful  morning, 
llano vei*  had  two  representatives  ;  one  of  them  a  tall  specimen  of 
the  genuine  live  Yankee,  whose  proportions  afford  a  living  exem- 
plification of  the  mathematical  definition  of  longitude — "length 
without  breadth  or  thickness;"  —  whose  ability  to  take  long 
strides  amply  qualifies  him  for  a  "  steeple  Chase. ^^  Under  the 
circumstances  it  is  not  surprising  that  he  has  overcome  those 
studies  which  it  was  necessary  to  "walk  into,"  and  the  illustrious 
Prophet  of  the  Class  will  no  doubt  assign  him  some  hi(/h  position 
in  the  world. 

'''Tif!  seldom  that  any  one  sees 

Such  a  giant  in  human  abodes, 

And  when  he  stalks  over  the  streets 

He's  a  perfect  Colossus  of  Rhodes.^' 

Hanover  also  sent  us  a  Savage^  who,  judging  from  his  skill  on 
the  ball-ground,  is  supposed  to  belong  to  the  Kick-apoos  ;  others, 
who  judge  from  his  propensity  for  a  discreditable  kind  of  wit,  say 
he  belongs  to  the  Pun-chas  who  came  originally,  no  doubt,  from 
Pun-jaub  ;  others  still  who  judge  from  his  knowledge  of  chess,  say 
he  belongs  to  the  Pawn-ees,  but  those  who  know  him  best  consider 
him  one  of  the  Fellahs.  Wakefield  sent  us  a  characteristic  spec- 
imen familiarly  known  as  "  Corvus,  the  College  Clown,"  who  is 

4 


26 

supposed  to  be  the  author  of  a  work  recently  published,  entitled 
"  Habits  of  Good  Society."  Chelsea,  Vt.,  sent  us  one  whose  fond- 
ness for  milk  and  jewelry  should  have  won  for  him  the  appellation 
of  the  Golden  Calf —  worshipped  by  all  the  nuns.  It  was  during 
this  term  that  the  Debating  Club  was  formed  which,  for  a  short 
time,  afforded  the  mighty  gasometers  of  Danville  and  Candia,  the 
huge  bellows  from  Dunbarton,  the  eudless-screw  of  Worcester, 
and  the  Great  Geyser  of  East  Windsor  hill  an  opportunity  to  dis- 
play their  powers,  but  which  ended  in  a  grand  discussion  of  pea- 
nuts and  confectionery  —  which  debate  was,  of  course,  very  can- 
di(e)d.  It  was  during  this  term,  too,  that  Bunten  discovered  the 
"  constellation  of  Boots, '^  that  we  learned,  in  the  ornate  language 
of  Boyd,  that  the  heroes  of  Homer  "  druv  thar  embroidered 
chariots,  scarterin  the  Trojan  hosts,"  and  it  became  perfectly  ob- 
vious to  us  that  the  equation  x^  ±  2px-\-  q'^  =•  0.  (Read  from 
wristband.) 

About  the  middle  of  the  term  the  Faculty  dispatched  a  reve- 
nue Cutter  to  Louisville.  Considering  his  habit  of  absenting  him- 
self from  recitation,  his  name  was  very  appropriate.  He  was  ex- 
iled for  knowing  more  about  Charley  Prime  than  he  did  about  x . 
At  the  close  of  this  term,  Trevor,  whose  wonderful  knowledge  of 
mathematics  enabled  him  to  calculate  distances  so  accurately 
that,  on  a  certain  occasion,  in  jumping,  he  landed  exactly  in  the 
yniddle  of  Mink  Brook,  became  disgusted  with  "  this  yere  old 
))urg,"  and  retired  to  Cincinnati.  In  the  Spring  we  received 
importations  of  Cotton  and  Ammonia.  Concord  furnished  one 
who  blazed  for  awhile  but  soon  went  out  in  smoke,  and  at  the 
same  time  another  of  our  number  became  dissatisfied  and  weur 
to  Bowdoin.  Hopkhiton  sent  us  a  com-Pa^-ible  fellow,  who  on 
a  certain  dark  night  lit  a  match  and  found  himself  "  in  the  wrong 
shop,"  and  whose  equastrian  performances  in  B.  B.  alley  are  wor- 
thy of  especial  mention.  He  has  always  been  a  regular  atten- 
dant on  the  meetings  of  the  N.  R.  R.  at  the  Quincy  house,  Bos- 
ton, and  if  he  has  not  left  any  "  foot-prints  on  the  sands  of  time," 
has  left  vsome  deep  ones  under  a  neighboring  fence. 

From  Wolf-horongh  there  came  a  denizen  in  search  of  a  fi/nu-/- 
*Arm,  whose-er  po-er  —  whose  attitude  in  recitation  was  so  far 
from  a  be-atitude  that  it  used  to  remind  us  of  the  paternal  parent 
of  Miss  Kilmansegg  at  the  christening,  who, 


27 

**  in  the  fullness  of  joy  and  hope, 
Seemed  washing  his  hands  with  invisible  soap 

In  imi)erceptible  water." 
'"Runnels"   came   also    among    them  ;  —  "Now    there    was    a 
day    when   the  sons  of    men  came  to   present  themselves  be- 
fore the  Lord^  and  "  Runnels'"  came  also  among  them."     In 
the  Spring  vacation  the  great  Inert,  from  E.  Hanover,  went  on  a 
journey  and  met  with  adventures  enough  to  fill  an  octavo,  which 
might  be  entitled  The  Wandering  Chew.  Q'  Quid  rides  ?")    One 
of  our  number,  from  Turkey,  was  watched  about  this  time  and 
taken  off  his  guard  —  in  consequence  of  whicii  he  ran  down  in 
the  estimation  of  the  Faculty,  and  "  left  his  country  for  his  coun- 
try's good."     During  this  year  the  Class  of  '59  —  not  content 
with  following  the  path  to  distinction  trodden  by  their  ancestors, 
formed  a  military  company  to  cake  the  temple  of  Fame  by  as- 
sault.    They  met  daily  on  the  common  to  drill  themselves  and 
bore  the  neighborhood  ;   every  evening  they  rallied  at  the  tap  of 
the  drum  to  go  through  with  a  parade  of  dress  which  was  and 
yet  was  not  uniform^  and  make  the  village  resound  with  the  pier- 
cing notes  of  the  fife  and  the  shrill  notes  of  iSteel  —  after  which 
they  rallied  at  a  tap  of  another  kind,  and  went  through  the 
Hard-ee  drill  —  much  to  the  disquiet  of  us  peaceable  Freshmen. 
Accordingly  we  resolved  to  abate  the  nuisance  —  a  darin^  re- 
solve for  Freshmen,  but  if  the  determination  was  bold,  its  execution 
was  glorious.     On  the  morning  of  the  Fourth  of  July  a  numerous 
company  of  horse  and  foot  appeared,  headed  by  the  veritable 
"  one-hoss  shay,"    and  adorned  with  all  the  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  war.     The  utmost  latitude  (and  longitude)  being  al- 
lowed to  dress,  some  of  the  costumes  were  gorgeous  beyond  de- 
scription, and  as  the  magnificent  cavalcade  of  richly  caparisoned 
steeds  moved  along  to  the  dulcet  notes  of  horns  and  the  homo- 
phonous  tintinabulations  of  tea-kettle  drums,  the  air  was  rent  into 
rags  by  the  tumultuous  acclamations  of  the  enthusiastic  specta- 
tors.    We  went  through  the  various  evolutions   and   came   the 
"  left,''  "  left "  with  such  unexampled  precision  that  the  Sopho- 
mores were  completely  discomfited,  and  although  before  this  they 
were  forever  '''  grot  mdifig  arms,''  they  now  "•  grounded  arms'' 
forever.      Our  design   being   accomplished,  we   retired    to  our 
studies  in  peace  —  in  other  v.'ords,  we  left  the  field  of  glory  for  a 
glorious  Field. 


28 

Soon  after  this,  on  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  some  dauntless 
Soph,  with  an  amount  of  courage  that  almost  surpasses  beUef,  en- 
tered our  recitation- room  and  oiled  the  seats.  When  we  con- 
sider this  fearless  attempt  at  retaliation,  the  courage  of  the  three 
hundred  at  Thermopylae,  of  Horatius,  Arnold,  Paul  Jones  and 
other  stars  of  the  first  magnitude  in  the  historical  heavens  "  pale 
their  ineifoctual  fires,"  and,  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  it,  we 
stand  ao;hast,  iani2:ua!J!;e  fails  us  and  Reason  almost  reels  from  her 
throne.  We  had  heard  of  ''  carrying  the  war  into  Africa,"  but 
had  never  before  heard  of  carrying  it  into  Grreece.  At  the  close 
of  this  term  we  took  leave  of  our  Tutor  —  to  whom,  on  account 
of  his  uniform  fidelity  and  courtesy,  we  became  strongly  attached 
by  the  ties  of  respect  and  esteem  and  the  ligatares  of  the  Greek 
alphabet ;  a  thorough  scholar  —  to  whom  the  most  abstruse  prop- 
ositions in  mathematics  were  but  axioms,  and  who  "  rolled  Greek 
roots  like  a  sweet  morsel  under  his  tongue."  A  letter  was  re- 
ceived at  the  P.  0.  a  few  days  ago  —  the  direction  of  which  was 
deciphered  after  four  days  of  hard  study,  but  as  no  one  can  read 
the  hieroglyphics  on  the  inside,  the  letter  is  supposed  to  be  from 
Worthen  who  left  at  the  end  of  this  year.  Colburn,  Clarke  and 
Knowles  also  left  us. 

But  our  reminiscences  of  this  year  are  not  altogether  pleasant. 
Our  happiness  here  is  alloyed  with  grief.  "  In  the  midst  of  life 
we  are  in  death."  On  the  9th  of  July  occurred  a  deplorable 
calamity  which  cast  a  deep  gloom  over  the  College,  and  filled  all 
oui'  hearts  with  sadness.  I  allude  to  die  death,  by  drowning,  of 
Henry  Beecher  Stowe.  Although  he  had  been  with  us  but  a 
short  time,  he  had,  by  his  generous  disposition  and  many  noble 
(jualities,  won  numerous  friends. 

"Three  years  ago  —  a  ringing  voice, 
A  clear  blue  eye, 
And  clustering  curls  of  sunny  hair 
Too  fair  to  die. 

Three  years  ago  —  wliat  loves,  wliat  schemes, 

Far  into  life  ! 
"What  joyous  hopes,  what  high  resolves. 

What  generous  strife ! 
The  silent  picture  on  tlie  wall, 

Tlie  burial  stone  — 
Of  all  that  beauty,  life  and  joy, 

Keniain  alone !" 


29 

A  few  weeks  more  and  the  appearance  of  several  members  of 
our  class  in  swallow-tailed  coats,  reminded  us  that  we  had  at- 
tained Sophomoric  dignity.  With  this  accession  of  dignity  came 
new  privileges,  viz.  ;  the  right  to  carry  canes,  wear  "stove-pipes," 
cry  out  for  foot-balls,  and  send  Penes  who  inquired  for  the  Pres- 
ident's study,  to  the  Nunnery  adjacent  —  telling  them  not  to 
knock  at  the  front-door,  but  to  enter  and  go  right  up-stairs.  In 
the  church  here,  w^e  occupied  different  seats,  and  whenever  any 
Nun  stole  furtive  glances  over  ''  Watts' Select  Hymns"  at  the  se- 
lect hims  in  the  gallery,  we  thought  her  eyes  were  always  di- 
rected at  one  particular  object,  and  that  one  particular  object 
was  our  own  individual  self — a  cyn-o-mre!  This  term  we  re- 
ceived four  new  members — one  from  the  "sunny  South;" 
whose  ability  to  comprehend  metaphysical  abstractions,  renders 
him  capable  of  proving  that  the  innate  incomprehensibility  inhe- 
rent in  an  "  in  statu  quo"  is  incompatible  w^ith  impossibility. 
He  has  also  distinguished  himself  for  his  musical  skill  and  taste 
—  his  favorite  piece  being  the  "  Monastery  Bell(e)s."  During 
this  Fall  we  worked,  "  under  high  pressure,"  twenty-five  hours  a 
day  making  block  letters  "  §  the  height  between  the  lines,"  fir- 
mg  off  rhetorical  canons  and  showing  that  various  objects,  like 
the  backs  of  the  seats  in  our  recitation-room,  exhibited  "  marks 
of  design."  It  was  then  that  we  received  the  astonishing  infor- 
mation from  the  member  from  Haverhill  —  generally  considered 
a  Cope-able  man  —  that  "  the  breast-bone  at  each  swelling  of  the 
lungs  moves  for'ards  fourteen  inchest  I  do  not  wish  to  detract 
from  M.  R.'s  reputation  for  originality,  but  the  candor  of  an  im- 
partial historian  compels  me  to  state  that  in  this  case  he  answer- 
ed just  as  "  little  Fletch"  prompted  him.  We  also  found  the 
areas  of  several  fields  inf  the  vicinity  at  the  earnest  request  of 
the  owners  —  taking  our  pay  in  green  corn  and  apples.  One  of 
these  fields  was  so  uneven,  and  its  boundary  so  irregular  that 
only  one  man,  the  member  from  Darien,  could  walk  around  it, 
and  he,  strange  as  it  may  appear,  only  because  of  his  intimate 
acquaintance  with  the  spirit-level.  In  finding  the  altitude  of  the 
flag-staff,  we  used  the  old  qralrant  so  skillfully  that  we  were  able 
to  hand  in  accurate  computations  without  being  "  one  day  late," 
and  thereby  won  from  the  Prof,  an  expression  of  praise  —  which 
we  should  not,  very  likely,  have  received,  had  he  known  that  we 


30 

first  ascertained  its  altitude  by  inquiry  and  then  took  the  angles 
accordingly.  During  this  term  occurred  those  three  glorious 
games  of  foot-ball  —  in  each  of  which,  in  almost  as  short  a  time 
as  it  takes  to  recount  it,  the  ball  struck  a  ''  rumb-line'"  for  our 
fence.  During  the  Winter  term,  one  of  our  number  made  an 
investment  in  shoes,  but  got  Badgered,  and  soon  accepted  the 
invitation  of  the  Faculty  to  spend  a  few  weeks  in  Worcester. 

The  Spring  term  saw  an  addition  of  five  members.  One  of 
them  came  from  the  Class  of  '59  after  being  absent  one  year  on 
account  of  his  eyes,  which  were  injured  Soph.  Fall  while  looking 
through  the  theodolite  to  the  summit  of  Pine  Hill,  which  he 
found  to  be  one  thousand  five  hundred  feet  high !  Two  were 
formerly  members  of  Norwich  University,  but,  being  overcome 
with  admiration  at  our  grand  military  pageant  on  the  Fourth  of 
July,  they  deserted  to  Dartmouth.  Hobart  Free  College  sent 
us  one  whose  height  should  be  estimated  in  billiards  (yards)  — 
cti{e)riou8  as  the  measure  may  seem.  From  Tuftonborough 
there  came  a  venerable  patriarch  and  im-settled  minister. 

This  Spring  a  new  star  flashed  into  sight  in  the  poetical  firma- 
ment and,  like  the  late  comet,  entirely  unexpected.  I  need 
scarcely  say  that  I  allude  to  the  publication  of  a  volume  of 
Poems  by  a  member  of  our  class. 

"  Among  the  common  actions 
Performed  by  common  men, 
We  see  uncommon  actions 
Attempted  now  and  then." 

TiOng  may  the  author  live  to  enrich  our  literature,  and  may  his 
happiness,  like  some  of  his  early  poems,  be  measureless.  To 
borrow  Iiis  own  language,  may  he  have 

"  Four  stalwart  boys,  a  blooming  wife, 
To  make  complete  the  joys  of  life." 

About  this  time  a  somewhat  ludicrous  incident  occurred,  in 
which  the  orator  of  this  occasion  was  a  prominent  actor.  Three 
of  the  class,  while  walking  out,  mistook  the  waving  tail  of  an  old 
white  horse  seen  through  the  trees,  for  the  handkerchief  of  a 
Nun,  and  responded  vigorously  with  their  linen  for  the  space  of 
three  minutes  before  discovering  their  mistake — which  discov- 
ery was,  no  doubt,  followed  by  a  horse-laugh.  At  the  close  of 
the  term  two  of  our  number  purchased  a  yacht  and  floated  down 
the  river  to  Springfield.     To  describe  their  adventures  and  pri. 


31 

vatlons  would  require  a  volume.  ''  Quis  talia  fando  temperet  a 
lacrymis."  Picture  to  yourselves  for  a  moment  those  heroic 
souls  tossed  on  the  tempestuous  waves  at  night  in  their  minia- 
ture boat.  xV  black  pall  of  Egyptian  darkness  conceals  the  stars, 
and  enshrouds  the  earth  with  Cimmerean  gloom.  "Atra  nox 
incubat  mari"  —  "  dark  night  sits  brooding  on  the  deep."f  Vi- 
vid lightnings  flash  across  the  heavens  —  with  their  lurid  light 
making  the  darkness  still  more  terrible.  As  a  precautionary 
measure,  at  intervals  during  the  night,  the  roll  is  called  in  Latin 
—  Albus,  Ilaedus,  and  as  his  name  is  called  each  man  answers 
hie. 

On  the  following  Fourth  of  July,  two  of  our  number  visited 
Bethel,  Vt.,  and,  by  separating  in  the  crowd  and  calling  for  each 
other,  were  invited  to  speak.  From  Palmer's  lips  eloquence 
poured  forth  in  torrents  as  from  a  chain-pump, 

^'  While  words  of  learned  length  and  thundering  sound 
Amazed  the  gazing  rustics  ranged  around ; 
And  still  they  gazed  and  still  the  wonder  grew, 
That  one  small  head  could  carry  ail  he  knew." 

During  the  Summer  term  White  was  advised  to  "  copy  more 
correctly,"  and  one  of  our  number  distinguished  himself  for  card- 
inal  virtues. 

One  morning  the  two  front  seats  in  our  recitation-room  were 
oiled  a  little,  and  the  Prof.,  thinking  they  were  all  alike,  dis- 
missed us.  As  we  were  expected  to  recite  a  very  long  lesson  in 
Mathematics  that  morning,  and  as  oiling  the  seats  prevented  us 
from  flunking,  the  circumstances  of  the  case  look  rather  suspic?- 
ious,  and  I  place  this  fact  on  record  for  the  benefit  of  the  Profs, 
and  future  classes. 

We  come  now  to  the  demise  of  our  friend  Mathew  Matics. 
He  departed  this  life  very  suddenly  in  the  Soph,  recitation-room, 
July  23,  1858.  He  was  injured  by  falling  from  a  rail-way  em- 
bankment, but  the  immediate  cause  of  his  decease  was  Calculus. 
He  was  placed  on  a  plane  table,  but  he  had  '•'-  obviously"  solved 
the  great  equation  of  life  and  taken  his  departure.  The  chordi^ 
of  his  well  proportioned  form  had  ceased  to  perform  tiieir  func- 
tions, and  no  sines  of  life  could  be  discovered.  Time,  the  great 
leveller,  had  truncated  him.    This  is  not  the  proper  time  to  make 

t  Anthon. 


32 

a  trial  balance  of  his  life  bj  offsetting  his  errors  by  his  virtues, 
but  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying  that  he  was  a  man  of  great 
compass  of  mind,  who  had  taken  many  degrees  and  received 
many  comjylements.  Though  often  plotted  against,  he  was  quiet 
ill  his  demeanor,  and  in  his  language,  one  could  never  se-cant. 
He  left  a  large  circle  of  friends. 

x\t  the  end  of  this  term  two  of  the  ablest  men  in  the  class  left 
lis — Tucker  and  Hudson;  the  former,  on  account  of  his  schol- 
jn-ship  and  power  as  a  speaker,  was  one  of  our  most  promising 
men,  and  the  career  of  the  other,  made  brilliant  by  his  tact  and 
talent,  won  our  admiration  and  gained  him  considerable  credit 
among  the  people  in  the  place.  About  the  same  time  one  of  our 
number,  who  was  pronounced  in  a  recitation  of  Horace  "  uncom- 
monly Smart,''  was  ostracised. 

We  come  now  to  that  year  when  College  students  are  neither 
one  thing  nor  another.  They  are  like  girls  between  the  ages  of 
eleven  and  sixteen,  who  cannot  be  called  lively,  joyous  children, 
and  they  have  not,  as  yet,  attained  the  dignified  appellation  of 
"young  ladies."  Juniors  are  neither  "jolly  Sophs'."  nor  reve- 
rend Seniors.  We  were  in  a  sort  of  transition  state,  employed 
in  weaving  about  ourselves  the  subtle  threads  of  Logic  and  The- 
ology— forming  cocoons  to  be  hatched  out  into  Senior  butterflies 
by  celestial,  terrestrial  and  tartarean  heat  —  that  is  by  Astrono- 
my, Philosophy  and  "  Edwards  on  the  Will."  This  year  the 
complexion  of  our  class  was  somewhat  changed  by  an  intermix- 
ture of  Brown.  From  Hobart  came  a  second  adventurer  com- 
monly called  Burr,  (supposed  to  be  a  contraction  from  the  Latin 
e-hur — something  hard) — whose  exploits  on  the  P.  R.  R.  (pad- 
lock rail-road)  came  near  causing  him  to  be  in-c«r-cerated.  Lit- 
tleton sent  us  one  whose  attentions  to  the  ladies  will  no  doubt  be 
rewarded.  West  Randolph  sent  us  one  who  has,  in  the  recita- 
tion-room, exhibited  one  characteristic  of  a  wise  and  thoughtful 
man  —  sileftce.  From  the  Nashua  bar  —  where  he  had  been  for 
a  short  time,  but  not  during  a  brief  period  —  came  a  venerable 
patriarch  familiarly  called  Lignum,  who  is  supposed  to  possess 
tbe  best  disposition  of  any  man  in  the  Class,  as  he  has  seldom, 
since  joining  it,  exhibited  any  choler.  We  were  continually 
haunted  this  year  by  the  ghost  of  our  deceased  friend  Mathew 
Matics.  He  stared  at  us  through  lenses  and  prisms  and  in 
reflectors    of  various   kinds   we    saw   his   face    deeply  marked 


33 

with  spectral  lines ;  causing,  by  his  eccentricities,  in  the  other- 
wise regular  course  of  some  of  our  Phi  Betas,  orthogonal  per- 
turbations. This  year  one  of  our  class  informed  us  that  the 
equinoctial  points  are  situated  "  2°  above  the  celestial  sphere." 
Another  told  us  of  the  application  of  a  "  wench"  to  machinery, 
and  Wilcox  made  such  astonishing  progress  in  Astronomy  that 
he  subsequently  discovered  the  comet.  Hoitt  found  the  equa- 
tions of  Lardner  rather  slippery^  and  Palmer's  lively  regard  for 
an  old  hat  —  the  loss  of  which  has  been  decidedly  felt  —  pre- 
vented him  from  understanding  ''  cap-WlooVy  attraction."  By  the 
kind  invitation  of  our  over-worked  and  half-paid  Prof,  of  Oratory, 
several  of  our  number  —  nearly  all  of  whom  will  address  us  on 
Thursday — delivered  lectures  to  the  College  on  various  subjects 
of  interest,  such  as  Columbus,  Napoleon,  Humboldt,  &c.,  and  such 
was  the  reputation  of  some  of  the  speakers  that  extracts  from 
their  productions  were,  by  especial  arrangement,  published  in  the 
magazines  some  time  before  their  delivery  on  the  stage. 

In  the  Fall  we  commenced  the  pubUcation  of  "  The  iEgis"  — 
to  the  columns  of  which  the  three  editors  contributed  articles 
which  are  supposed  to  have  been  compositions  written  by  them 
when  very  small  boys.  The  celebrated  case  of  Bickmore  vs. 
Ayer,  in  Avhich  the  plaintiff  tried  to  recover  damages  for  injury 
to  a  jack-knife  which  he  had  loaned  defendant  to  whittle  with 
during  recitation,  came  oft"  this  term.  There  is  not  time  to  de- 
scribe, at  leiigth,  this  exciting  trial,  but  I  cannot  refrain  from  re- 
minding you  of  the  moving  effects  of  the  eloquence  of  Pierce,  who 
rolled  up  his  sleeves  to  make  himself  a  bar{e-w)rister.  The  Jury 
con-7iived  at  the  evidence  of  the  defendant,  and  brought  in  as  a 
verdict,  "  pea-nuts  for  ourselves." 

The  upsetting  on  the  river  of  the  duet  from  Hobart,  forms 
one  of  the  salient  points  in  the  history  of  the  Summer  Term. 
The  fact  that  they  were  in  the  river,  hanging  to  their  boat,  an 
hour  and  a  half,  accounts  satisfactorily  for  their  aversion  to  water 
as  a  beverage. 

On  the  morning  of  the  Fourth  of  July,  one  of  our  number,  with 
what  might,  in  his  own  language,  be  called  lu-nat'-ic  zeal  climbed 
the  lightning  rod  of  Dartmouth  Hall  and,  while  at  this  airy  bight, 
attached  a  rope  to  the  tongue  of  the  bell  which  was  kept  ringing 


34 

for  three  hours.  The  custom  of  an  oriental  prince  of  inflicting 
punishment  on  the  member  that  violated  the  law,  was  adopted  in 
this  case  ;  the  offenders  hands  were  i^asti-csitod. 

We  come  now  to  the  time  to  which  we  had  always  looked  for- 
ward with  fond  anticipations  —  the  halcyon  days  of  Senior  year. 
As  this  is  a  year  of  peace  and  quietness  of  course  few  events  oc- 
curred to  disturb  our  equanimity.  Our  number  was  increased 
by  the  addition  of  Fletcher,  who  after  four  years  absence,  re- 
turned to  receive  the  benefit  that  is  to  be  derived  from  studying 
"  Hickok's  Moral  Science."  In  the  winter,  Wilcox  was  prose- 
cuted for  plsLj'mg  poker  with  one  of  his  scholars  —  in  which  game 
the  boy  was  badly  bluffed;  and  M.  R.,  whose  propensity  for  a 
certain  game  and  whose  love  for  "the  weed"  would  lead  cne  to 
suppose  that  he  came  from  the  Lew  Chew  Islands,  as  usual, 
taught  a  school  of  young  cod  down  on  the  Cape  on  his  own  hook. 
As  the  inhabitants  thereabouts  are  generally  a  sel-fish  people,  the 
n^^proceeds  of  the  male  department  were  not  very  great,  and  as 
all  the  girls  offered  to  pay  him  in  smacks  he  found  it  rather  diffi- 
cult to  make  change.  He  succeeded  so  well  in  aba(i)t-ing  the 
olam-or  that  formerly  attended  the  school  that  the  parental  cod 
were  almost  m-sane  with  joy,  and  when  he  had  /?2-ished  they 
acknowledged  that,  considering  their  young  ones  were  rather  a 
scal/i/  set,  they  manifested  considerable  pro-^'c-iency. 

This  year  Pierce  demonstrated  that  a  covered  carriage  can  roll 
over  three  times  in  going  down  a  hill,  and  at  last  stop  with  the 
wheels  up  in  the  air  without  seriously  injuring  the  occupant,  al- 
though, in  his  own  language,  the  affair  was  rather  "  ludicrious  ;'' 
and  Tredick  distinguished  himself  for  his  knowledge  of  Reid  — 
"  in  a  horn  f^  it  was  voted  that  Chamberlin  constitute  a  "  com- 
mittee of  forty,"  and  Dickinson  wrote  a  letter  to  The  Boston 
Journal  on  which  the  editor  said  he  could  "  place  no  reliance." 

We  had  been  sulyectcd  to  the  sharp  questioning  of  our  Profes- 
sor of  Intellectual  Philosophy  for  so  Long  a  time,  that  we  hailed 
the  addition  of  Chemistry  to  our  studies  with  delight,  but  after  a 
few  recitations,  we  found  we  had  only  exchanged  our  "  Roland 
for  an  Oliver.''^ 

Caverno's  great  skill  in  making  hydrogen  gas,  which  came 
very  near  preventing  your  Chronicler  from  appearing  on  this  oc- 


35 

casioii,  has  been  already,  perhaps,  sufficiently  "  noised  abroad.^' 
Some  other  students  in  practical  Chemistry  have  made  eipial 
progress,  but  none  got  so  stunning  a  report.  If  injustice  is  done 
in  these  Chronicles  the  blame  must  all  be  ascribed  to  him,  for, 
during  a  considerable  part  of  the  time  since  that  i/reat  jar  exist- 
ed between  us,  I  have  been  able  to  hear  one  side  onlij. 

Last  Spring  two  of  our  ablest  men  left  us  to  lead  the  next 
class  —  one  at  each  end.  A  bust  of  soft-soap  would  have  been 
erected  to  the  memory  of  one  of  them  had  not  Bickmore  used  up 
all  the  potash  some  time  ago.  (The  allusion  to  potash  is  true  al- 
though it  is  a  lye.)  At  the  close  of  the  term  the  officers  for  Class- 
day  were  elected,  and  though  I  would  not,  as  Pierce  says,  "  im- 
pimge'"  the  motives  of  any  portion  of  the  Class,  candor  compels 
me  to  designate  the  party  that  elected  our  orator  (Stone)  as  a  pe- 
tri-f action.  I  mention  with  feelings  of  pride  our  class-naturalist 
—  the  collector  of  crow's-nests  and  bugs  of  various  kinds  for  the 
Smithsonian ;  the  discoverer  of  the  double  apple-blossom  and  the 
male  Ichneumon  fly  laying  eggs.  Did  time  permit  I  should  speak 
at  length  of  the  member  from  S.  Berwick,  whose  ruddy  cheeks 
are  probably  due  to  his  habit  of  "  running  his  face"  so  often  in 
recitation  ;  famous  for  his  knowledge  of  loads  —  except  the  Geo- 
logical variety  —  of  which  he  has  been  profoundly  ignorant :  of 
the  great  temperance  reformer  from  Topsfield  who  has  put  all 
kinds  of  beverages  into  the  gattur  ;  of  the  great  "  theolog"  from 
E.  Windsor  Hill,  who  has  kindly  loaned  his  spy -glass  to  his  class- 
mates to  look  at  the  stars  with,  but  the  stars  have  usually  been 
the  Venuses  in  the  nunnery  windows  ;  of  our  model  artist  whose 
admirable  illustrations  of  various  events  in  our  course  have  con- 
tributed greatly  to  cur  amusement ;  of  the  great  amphibious  cat- 
trainer  from  Byfield —  (if  any  of  you  know  where  that  is),  cele- 
brated for  his  exploits  "  inter  viburna ;"  and  of  the  sublime 
strains  of  the  Handels  led  by  Sanborn,  Ross  &  Tenney — "  voces 
tew^-bra-rum." 

But  I  cannot  refrain  from  saying  a  few  words  about  the  mod- 
ern Elijah.  Elijah  of  old  was  fed  by  the  ravens,  but  ours  has 
often  fed  the  raving.  (Burnap).  What  strange  geological  trans- 
formations have  we  seen  at  his  saloon.  How  often  have  we  seen 
a  gangue  go  in  and  come  out  bowlder.     There  you  have  learned 


36 

that  bivalves  were  friable^  and  have  been  treated  to  bites  much 
more  palatable  than  irilobites.  In  that  back  room,  how  much 
have  you  ruminated,  and  how  jou  have  rattled  the  dishes  in  a 
manner  perfectly  seditious. 

Who  can  refrain  from  going  into  ecstacies  over  the  inapprecia- 
ble benefits  we  have  derived  from  the  College  library.  The  great 
library  of  Alexandria  was  burned  by  a  fanatical  Archbishop,  and 
many  of  the  biblical  collections  of  antiquity  were  destroyed  by 
the  Goths  and  Vandals,  but  no  ruthless  Barbarians  have  destroy- 
ed ours.  There  it  stands  uninjured  —  a  monument  of  the  watch- 
ful care  of  the  Faculty.  Some  Libraries  have  Hmited  hours  of 
admittance,  but  ours  is  open  at  one  time  as  much  as  at  another, 
and  the  industrious  student  who  burns  the  nocturnal  kerosene 
can  obtain  its  aid  just  as  well  as  he  who  applies  at  mid-day. 
How  often  have  we  sought  its  attractive  alcoves  and  how  has  its 
accessibihty,  increased  by  a  complete  catalogue,  invited  diligent 
and  profitable  research  ?  How  has  the  very  sight  of  its  well-ar- 
ranged shelves  created  in  us  a  love  for  literature  that  has  forti- 
fied us  against  the  allurements  of  idleness  ?  Had  it  been  closed 
during  the  greater  part  of  our  course,  how  incalculable  must  have 
been  our  loss  ? 

Class-mates,  our  course  is  nearly  ended — and  a  pleasant  one 
it  has  been  to  us.  We  have  had  some  trials  and  troubles,  but  it 
has  been  good  for  us  that  we  have  been  afflicted.  We  have 
thereby  gained  strength  for  the  great  battle  of  life.  Every  one 
of  us  will,  I  think,  admit  that  too  much  time  has  been  devoted  in 
our  course  to  Theology  and  too  little  to  the  Natural  Sciences. 
Too  much  of  it  has  been  a  gallopade  ;  we  have  learned  Multa 
and  not  Multiim  ;  but  our  instructors  have  been  faithful,  and  our 
discipline,  if  not  the  best  that  can  be  devised,  has  been  profitable. 
As  a  class  we  have  ever  been  perfectly  united  ;  no  class  was  ever 
more  so.  As  every  one  of  us  came  here  with  a  '•'•poor  jit^^  it  is 
not  strange  that  some  of  us  have  been  loose  in  our  habits^  but 
good  order  and  sobriety  have  to  an  eminent  degree  distinguished 
us.  No  flagrant  outrage  can  be  charged  upon  us  ;  this  we  can 
justly  be  proud  of.  Brothers,  the  future  opens  bright  upon  us. 
Let  us  be  men^  in  adversity  as  in  prosperity,  ever  keeping  in 
mind  our  Class-motto,  Finis  Cokonat  Opus. 


PROPHECIES. 

BY  CHARLES  LEE  FOSTER. 


A  GREAT  MAN  of  antiquity  has  observed  with  much  sagacity 
and  profundity,  "  That  man  alone  is  happy  who  is  dead."  I 
shall  therefore  premise  my  remarks  by  prophesying  the  death  of 
the  entire  Class — with  the  exception  of  French,  who  will  probably 
live  forever,  since  it  would  be  contrary  to  his  usual  custom  to 
die,  and  the  Ethiopian  might  change  his  skin  easier  than  French 
his  habits.  So  you  see,  my  Classmates,  that  whatever  vicissi- 
tudes you  may  encounter  during  the  interval,  you  are  all  -  (if 
the  great  man's  theory  is  correct )-  destined  to  ultimate  felicity. 
But  of  that  interval,  and  of  sundry  events  therein,  important  to 
yourselves  and  the  world,  it  is  now  my  province  to  speak.  But 
first  let  me  say  a  few  words  by  way  of ''  defining  my  position." 

The  following  text,  which  suggests  itself  as  one  to  which  I  may 
with  propriety  call  your  attention  for  a  moment,  is  found  in  the 
first  book  of  Samuel,  the  tenth  chapter  and  eleventh  verse. — 
(I  Sam.  10:  11.)  "  Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets  ?"  Saul, 
you  well  recollect,  was  a  political  aspirant  of  some  notoriety  in 
the  days  of  Israel's  pride  —  an  ambitious  man  —  at  one  time  fill- 
ing the  office  of  chief  magistrate  of  the  Israelitish  nation  ;  while 
at  another  time  we  find  him  going  forth  to  seek  his  father's  asses. 
This  was  the  time  when  the  spirit  of  proph  cy  came  to  him  and 
told  him  where  to  find  the  asses  :  —  even  so  did  the  august  spirit 
respond  to  my  invocation  when  on  a  similar  errand  !  In  the  lan- 
guage of  an  illustrious  divine,  "  Lo  and  behold.  I  have  found 
them  !" 

It  is  no  wonder  that  the  people  were  surprised  to  find  such  a  , 
man  as  Saul  engaged  in  so  sicerdotal  a  calling  ;  but  we  see  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  he  met  with  eminent  success  in  it.  Nor  can 
it  be  justly  predicated  of  me  that  I  am  no  true  prophet.  Let  the 
future  determine.  If,  however,  it  is  a  matter  of  surprise  to  any 
that  the  humble  and  unassuming  individual  who  now  appears  be- 


38 

Core  you  should  be  called  upon  to  exercise  the    responsible  func- 
tions of  an  oracle,  let  me  remind  you  that 

"  There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends." 

Since  my  election  it  is  surprising  what  courtesies  have  been 
shown  me  by  my  Classmates.  If  there  had  been  any  exception 
I  would  never  have  taken  advantage  of  my  position  to  retaliate. 

The  attempt  under  any  circumstances  to  peer  into  the  sacred 
mysteries  of  the  future,  is  an  act  of  daring  from  which  the  bold- 
est may  well  shrink  ;  but  to  foretell  the  destinies  of  such  men  as 
these  requires  the  skill  of  a  seer  more  potent  than  even  the  old 
saint  from  whose  memoir  my  text  is  quoted.  In  accepting  this 
responsible  position  —  which  I  was  prevailed  upon  to  accept  by 
the  tearful  entreaties  of  my  Classmates  —  I  was  well  aware  of 
the  magnitude  of  the  undertaking,  since  by  four  years'  intimate 
acquahitance  with  the  Class  I  had  become  assured  that  its  future 
must  be  marked  by  success  and  glory,  emoluments  and  honor. 
Still,  I  knew  that  I  could  not  rely  on  my  own  unaided  judgment 
to  cast  its  mighty  horoscope,  and  that,  unless  aided  by  inspiration 
of  a  sublimer  nature,  the  task  would  be  hopeless.  But  I  was 
strong  in  faith.  Seven  times  seven  days  and  nights,  fasting,  I 
wandered  alone  through  the  wilderness  of  fear,  invoking  with 
wailings  the  spirit  of  prophecy.  At  midnight  of  the  forty-ninth 
day  I  had  abandoned  myself  to  despair  -  when  I  heard  the  "  fol- 
lerin  noise,"  Z-z-z  !  On  turning  to  discover  whence  proceeded 
this  peculiar  sound,  I  saw  a  mysterious  shape  approaching 
through  the  darkness,  and  shedding  around  him  a  mild  nebulous 
lustre.  He  was  encased  in  complete  mail,  like  a  knight  of  ye 
olden  time  ;  but  on  his  breast  he  wore  the  cabalistic  symbols  of 
the  "  sepulchre,"  and  so  I  recognized  him  at  once  as  the  wel- 
come spirit  of  prophecy,  and  hailed  him  with  glee.  And  he  said, 
''  I  am  come,  faithfullest  of  disciples,  to  give  you  light.  See,  I 
remove  from  before  your  eyes  the  dusky  veil,  beyond  which  lie 
fearful  mysteries  of  futurity." 

Then  a  horror  of  great  darkness  fell  upon  me,  and  I  was  as- 
tonied  until  the  ninth  hour :  and  I  looked  and  saw,  and  behold  a 
blazing  comet  swept  by  with  a  shrill  shriek.  "  It  is  Herrick's 
Express,"  said  the  ghost,  "  on  its  daily  trip  to  the  moon.  Her- 
rick  has  made  his  fortune,  by  opening  lunar  intercourse,  and  now 


39 

has  a  regular  line  of  comets  plying  between  earth  and  all  the 
principal  planets.  As  for  himself,  he  is  now  gone  on  a  small 
pleasure-comet  to  Saturn,  whence  he  will  bring  specimens  of  the 
rings." 

The  scene  changed,  and  I  found  myself  in  the  Elditor's  Sanc- 
tum of  the  New  York  Tribune  office.  At  the  table  sat  Ralph 
Middleton  writing.  I  read  over  his  shoulder  :  ''  Those  old  al)uses 
have  long  been  sunk  beneath  a  more  generous  lib  'rty.  The  last 
slaver  on  the  seas  was  the  "  Morning  Star,"  under  command  of 
that  brutal  ruffian  John  William  Haley,  who  was  taken  by  Lieut. 
Wilcox,  of  the  Revenue  service,  in  187B.  Haley  was  stoutly  de- 
fended by  those  learned  advocates,  the  Brothers  Palmer  ;  but 
nothing  could  resist  the  stern  sense  of  justice  which  secured  his 
sentence,  a  death-blow  to  the  hopes  of  speculators  in  this  infer- 
nal trade."  While  I  stood  stupified  with  amazement  at  reading 
such  sentiments  from  Middleton's  pen,  the  ghost  had  been  busy 
overhauling  a  stock  of  old  newspapers  and  clipping  therefrom, 
and  he  now  directed  my  attention  to  several  scraps,  which  hav- 
ing retained  and  copied,  I  will  read  to  you. 

The  first  was  from  a  Portland  paper :  "  Our  esteemed  citizen 
Ferguson  Haines,  Esq.,  has  recently  donated  to  our  city  the  mag- 
nificent sum  of  Eighty  Thousand  Dollars  for  the  founding  of  a 
Fsmale  Seminary.  This  is  but  one  of  our  many  causes  for  grat- 
itude to  this  public  spirited  man."  I  next  read  with  much  satis- 
faction a  letter  from  Dartmouth  :  "  The  Theological  Chair  re- 
cently vacated  by  Professor  Noyes,  who  is  now  at  Andover,  will 
be  filled  in  a  few  weeks  by  the  Rev.  J.  0.  Scripture,  who,  it  is 
expected, will  attend  to  his  duties  several  times  during  each  term.? 
A  political  item  in  another  paper  was  to  this  effect :  ''  The  maid- 
en speech  of  Mr.  Brooks  of  New  Hampshire,  in  the  Senate,  was 
a  brilliant  success.  His  party  expect  much  of  him,  and  with 
reason.  His  remarks,  as  usul.1,  were  pointed  and  shrewd." — 
The  ghost  now  referred  me  to  the  following  paragraph :  '•  We 
learn  that  Judge  Chamberlin  has  passed  sentence  against  the 
pirate  Closson  to  the  utmost  extremity  of  the  law.  The  daring 
deeds  of  this  blood-thirsty  scourge  of  the  seas  have  long  rendered 
navigation  so  unsafe  that  we  cannot  censure  the  severity  of  the 
sentence,  and  while  we  commend  the  integrity  and  resolution  of 


40 

the  incorruptible  Magistrate,  we  feel  a  sense  of  gratitude  toward 
that  brave  and  efficient  officer,  Capt.  Dickinson,  by  whose  address 
and  energy  Closson  was  captured.  We  are  pleased  to  announce 
that  in  acknowledgment  of  this  service  a  public  testimonial  is  to  be 
presented  to  Capt.  Dickinson.  Speeches  are  expected  on 
the  occasion,  from  Messrs.  Westgate  &  Dearborn,  delegates 
from  Congress.  A  curious  circumstance  should  be  mentioned  in 
this  connection:  a  backwoodsman,  of  the  name  of  Tredick,  pre- 
sented himself  a  few  days  since  to  the  High  Sheriff  Hoitt,  and  so- 
licited to  be  employed  as  executioner,  demanding  no  other  re- 
muneration for  his  services  than  the  satisfaction  the  exercise  of 
his  skill  would  afford  him.  It  is  said  he  introduced  himself  to 
Sheriff  Hoitt  by  asking  for  a  chaw  of  tobacco,  and  threatening 
to  euchre  him  before  he  could  say  Jack- without  the  Robinson." 
Here  I  was  called  to  notice  an  advertisement  of  seven  columns 
in  a  daily,  about  a  new  and  famous  medicine,  discovered  by  good 
Dr.  Charles  Little,  whose  sands  of  life,  &c. —  and  which  claimed 
to  be  a  panacea  for  "  all  the  ills  which  flesh  is  heir  to."  Also, 
an  extract  from  a  Medical  Journal,  with  an  account  of  an  astound- 
ing surgical  feat  achieved  by  Dr.  Henry  C.  Newell  of  St.  Johns- 
bury,  being  the  successful  removal  of  the  Epigastrium  from  a  pa- 
tient affected  with  chronic  bilious  cholic.  Such  triumphs,  my 
Christian  friends,  does  the  diligent  study  of  science  secure  to  its 
votaries. 

I  now  observed  the  announcement  in  a  Boston  Journal  of  Sat- 
urday evening,  (date  of  1900,)  that  divine  service  would  be  held 
in  the  Old  South  Church  by  the  Rev.  Arthur  Little,  D.  D.— 
That  a  doctrinal  discourse  would  be  delivered  in  the  Music  Hall, 
by  Dr.  Thompson  of  Connecticut.  Also,  that  high  mass  would 
be  said  in  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral  by  Father  Sullivan  Kimball. 
Then  I  rent  my  clothes  and  cried  with  an  exceeding  great  and 
bitter  cry  ;-  but  the  ghost  checked  me  and  pointed  to  the  follow- 
ing advertisements  in  flaming  posters,  stuck  on  the  walls  and 
doors  of  the  office  :  "  The  popular  vocaHst,  S.  B.  Kidder,  pro- 
poses to  give  one  of  his  select  sacred  Concerts  in  the  Meionian 
on  Sabbath  eve.  See  small  bills."  The  next  informed  the  pubhc 
that  the  world-renowned  star  actor,  D.  H.  Caverno,  had  return- 
ed from  his  triumphant  career  in  Europe,  and  would  appear,  for 


41 

one  ni^ht  only,  in  his  famous  character  of  Bombardini,  in  the 
phiy  entitled  the  "  Sepulchre.'' 

Here  I  observed  that  the  ghost  was  laughing  uproariously,  and 
in  answer  to  my  inquiring  look,  he  handed  me  a  slip,  from  whi  ch 
I  read  —  "  We  learn  that  Gov.   Morrill  is  resolute   in   refusing 
pardon  to  the  culprit  Pierce^  whose  incendiary  speeches  have  so 
boldly  assailed  and  so  nearly  upset  the  National  Govemraout. 
The  Governor  has  got  Pierce  in  prison,  and  it  is  evident  he 
means  to  keep  him  there.     It  is  thought  his  Excellency  is  cher- 
ishing the  recollection  of  some  ancient  grudge,  as  he  goes  every 
day  to  the  grated  window  of  Pierce's  cell  and  shakes  at  him  the 
gubernatorial  fist,  and  bestows  objurgations  upon  him  in  the  mast 
liberal  manner  ;  of  which,  however,  Pierce  loses  the  full  benenc 
through   excessive  and  boisterous  cacliianition."     So  Ij/mod 
the  ghost  in  his  laughter,  and  we  were  having  quite  a  pleasant 
time  over  it,  when  my  eye  fell  on  the  title  of  an  im^nense  vol  am  3 
lying  on  the  Editor's  table  ^  '^  Domestic  Ecoaom/  of  the  Pat.-i- 
archs,  by  II.  D.  Wood,  of  the  Nashua  bar,  an  antediluvian,  or 
fossil  remain,  who  was  one  of  'em,  known  during  the  last  century 
as  the  Wandering  Jew.      Re-written  for  the   enlightenment  of 
the  20th  century." 

All  this  time  I  had  been  standing  by  the  Editor's  chair  in  the 
N.  Y.  Tribune  office  ;  —  suddenly  the  scene  changed,  and  these 
successive  views  passed  before  my  eyes.  A  room  large  and  airy, 
and  luxuriously  furnished,  but  in  strange  confusion  ;  on  the  car- 
pets books  strewn,  with  fragments  of  paper  half  written  over;  on 
the  tables  pipes,  and  a  huge  box  of  tobacco,  glasses,  quills,  ink 
and  more  books  ;  on  the  floor,  with  a  volume  of  Shelley  under 
his  head  and  a  volume  of  smoke  over  it,  lay  our  friend  Morse. ^ — 
And  further  on  in  the  prophetic  future,  I  discover  him  among 

'*  the  bards  sublime, 
Whose  distaut  footsteps  echo  down  the  corridors  of  time  " 

As  this  scene  faded  from  sight,  I  found  myself  standing  on  the 
platform  of  a  railway  station,  and  I  licard  a  well  known  voice  — 
"  Cars  ready  for  Newberryport,  Rowley,  and  Joppa  Fiats,  by 
way  of  Dogtown !"  With  the  words  the  great  Mose  Chase  saun- 
tered by,  and  I  saw  on  his  brow  the  grave  Jook  of  responsibility, 


42 

and  on  his  hat  the  glittering  badge  of  a  functionary.     I  would 
have  hailed  him,  but  in  an  instant  he  had  vanished,  and   I  saw 
the  interior  of  a  large  restaurant,  while  at  the  bar  stood  Bunten 
opening  bivalves  with  a   skill  and  dexterity  I  never  saw  surpass- 
ed —  save  by  his  skill  in  describing  the  process  in  the  recitation- 
room.  Before  I  could  speak,  he  disappeared  ;  and  I  saw  Daniel 
Webster  Sanborn  on  a  stump,  addressing  a  comatose  crowd.    He 
disappeared,  and  I  saw  the  interior  of  a  happy  home,   wherein, 
presiding  with  proud  parental  dignity,  I   recognized  my  friend 
Dick  Stone  —  the  same  whose  eloquence  h  as  entranced  you  this 
afternoon.  In  another  happy  family  circle,  amid  contentment  and 
babies,  I  saw  the  Rev.  John  Hartshorn,  and  I  knew  he  was  be- 
loved and  trusted  by  his  people  as  he  deserved.     In  a  dingy  old 
law  office,  behind  a  breastwork  of  Coke   and   Chitty,  I  saw  the 
great  George  Chandler,   regarding  with  a  very  resigned  expres- 
sion of  countenance  a  sherry  cobbler,  over  which  he  was  chant- 
ing a  gentle  dirge.     I  saw  next  the  accumulated  treasures  of  the 
British  Museum,  among  which  a  skull  wa's  shown,  labelled,  ^*  the 
head  of  Prof.  Bickmore,  the  great  Bugologist  of  America.    Died 
Anno  Domini  1920."     Close  beside  this  remarkable  relic,  upon 
■which  I  gazed  with  reverence,  was  a  hat^  of  weather-beaten  as- 
pect, and  I  needed  not  to  read  the  conspicuous  label,  for  I  knew 
it  was  the  identical  helmet  worn  through  life  by  the  great  Wils. 
Palmer  —  the  biggest  plank  in  the  Democratic  platform.     Even 
now  while  I  speak,  the  gentle  ghost  of  prophecy  is  standing  be- 
hind me,  and  pulling  my  hair  worse   than  the  martial   goddess 
pulled  the  yellow  locks  of  "  flodaa  Qavi,  ^plltvo^''  before  ihQ 
walls  of  Troy.     Standing  therefore  in  the  grim  distance  of  the 
shadowy  future,  I  show  you  from  its  weird   arcana  all  it  is  per- 
mitted me  to  disclose. 

I  find  John  Brown  with  pious  zeal  emulating  the  example  of 
his  venerable  ancestor,  and  like  him  becoming  the  proprietor  of 
a  diminutive  aboriginal,  and|  wherever  he  goes,  enjoying  great 
popularity  on  account  of  his  supposed  relationship  to  the  great 
John  Brown,  of  Harper's  Ferry.  I  see  Jack  Hayes  a  portly  Al- 
dermm  of  New  York  City,  occupying  a  regal  suite  of  rooms  over 
Cotton's  great  Lager  Beer  saloon,  of  which  he  is  a  prcnincnt 
patron. 


43 

I  sec  Fletcher,  like  the  Samaritan  mentioned  in  Scripture, 
pouring  oil  and  wine  into  the  wounds  of  suffering  humanity.  I  see 
Charley  Wheeler,  even  as  he  now  wields  the  baton  of  office,  in 
coming  years  wielding  the  sword  of  justice,  and  hewing  off  from 
the  too  weighty  burden  of  the  sinking  scale  bountiful  perquisites 
wherewith  to  line  the  judicial  pocket,  and  inflate  that  portion  of 
his  physical  system  devoted  by  considerate  nature  to  the  digestive 
process.     I  see  a  lonely  grave-yard,  and  beneath  a  drooping  wil- 
low a  plain,  unobtrusive  slab.     On  the  stone  I  read  the  name  of 
Hale  ;  but  the  efficing  finger  of  time   has   removed   the  epitaph, 
and  no  clue  is  given  to  his  history,  save  two  letters  affixed  to  the 
name,  from  which  I  am  led  to  infer  that  he  had  attained  in  life 
to  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity  ;  but,  on  a  closer  scrutiny,  I 
am  pained  to  discover  a  dash  between  the  Ds.     I  see  Billy  Pat- 
terson celebrating  the  close  of  the  19th  century  by  a  war-dance 
over  the  grave  of  the  Democratic  party,  and  erecting  to  its  mem- 
ory a  monument  with  the  inscription   "  Love  your   enemies,  and 
do  good  to  them  that  despitefuUy  use  you."     I  see  Charles  Par- 
ker following  in  the  track  of  his  great  exemplar  Napoleon,  and 
going  forth  to  conquer  ; — but  alas  !  instead  of  subduing  worlds^ 
he  heads  a  fillibustering  band,  stirs  up  a  row  with  the  Mormons 
and  takes  prisoner  their  chief,  the  great  E.  B.  Parker,  who  only 
mourns  his  captivity  because  obliged  to  leave  for  a   short  time 
his  three  hundred  and  twenty  wives. 

Dr.  How  is  verj'-  successful  in  practice,  but  makes  moit  of  his 
wealth  by  curing  infirm  ^m-ware,  since  having  become  possessed 
in  a  miraculous  manner  of  a  complete  set  of  tinman's  tools,  he 
has  set  up  shop  in  his  labaratory,  and,  it  is  said,  he  rjends  tin- 
pans  and  ^/lee-pans  with  equal  success.  I  see  Rea  the  proprie- 
tor of  a  faro  saloon  and  retail  liquor  bazaar  on  the  banks  of  the 
"  rippling  Jordan  ;"  whence  he  supplies  to  the  boatmen  on  the 
river  spiritual  nourishment  on  week  days,  and  from  the  desk  on 
the  Sabbath,  being  supplied  yearly  with  a  barrel  of  old  sermons, 
by  Rev.  George  Hardy,  to  whom  he  returns  the  barrel  filled  with 
spiced  bitters,  &c.  ;  attributable  to  which  perhaps  is  the  fact  that 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Hardy  is  esteemed  one  of  the  most  stirring  and 
spirited  preachers  in  the  country. 


44 

I  see  Camp,  ten  years  hence, "  sitting  in  a  mud-puddle,  waiting 
for  a  woman  worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  pick  him  out 
and  marrj  him."  I  see  Bancroft  at  the  Court  of  St.  James,  with 
consummate  diplomacy,  carrying  every  point  he  proposes  and 
out-gcneralling  the  nobility  in  the  most  horrifying  manner.  The 
Rev.  Jonathan  Brewster  resigns  his  pulpit  after  many  years  of 
faithful  toiling  in  the  vineyard,  having  discovered  and  patented  a 
great  improvement  in  tvinches,  and  now  at  the  mechanic's  bench 
he  eschews  theology  and  cultivates  the  root  of  all  evil. 

Ned  Savage  challenges  Morphy  to  a  game  of  chess,  and  find- 
ing himself  about  to  be  beaten,  since  his  proud  spirit  will  not 
brook  defeat,  he  anticipates  that  event  by  an  enormous  dose  of 
3Jo7'pMn^  ;  whereupon  the  aforesaid  spirit  moves  to  adjourn,  un- 
til by  a  little  finessing  he  effects  a  stah-mnte  ;  after  which  he 
claims  the  chess-championship  of  the  world. 

I  see  a  confused  appearance  —  as  if  through  a  cloud  —  as  of 
persons  in  violent  contest,  and  the  ghost  whispers  me  that  it  is 
our  esteemed  friend  II.  H.  Kimball  struggling  with  destiny  — 
but  of  the  issue  I  am  unadvised.  Destin}^  however  seems  to  have 
the  advantage.  Dave  Caldwell  is  a  wealthy  Nal)ob  of  Calcutta, 
living  in  princely  style  and  priding  himself  on  his  connoisseur- 
ship  in  East  Indian  women  and  horses.  Boyd  has  been  at  work 
for  many  years  trying  to  locate  a  Chapter  of  "  our  S  c  i  e  ty"  on 
an  uninhabited  island. 

It  will  afford  the  members  of  the  Theological  Society  some  re- 
lief to  learn  that  the  pulpit  of  this  church,  after  being  for  four 
years  unsupplied  with  a  pastor,  is  filled  in  1863  by  Rev.  John 
B.  Griswold.  And  in  view  of  the  friendly  interest  we  feel  toward 
our  neighbor  Institution  at  Norwich,  I  am  })leased  to  tell  you 
that  I  see  it  many  years  hence  flourishing  under  the  care  of  Geo. 
Parker,  LL.  D.,  its  efficient  presiding  officer. 

Alas  for  Sargent's  sorrowful  fate!  lie  was  the  leader  of  a 
grand  orchestra  ;  but  on  the  occasion  of  Douglas'  election  to  the 
Presidency  in  1864  he  serenaded  the  great  man,  and  beat  time 
as  usual  with  his  head  ;  but  in  his  enthusiasm,  so  violently,  that 
he  snapped  it  off.  Pearsall  is  a  jolly  old  bachelor,  revelling  in 
wealth,  and  enjoying  the  society  of  a  numerous  circle  of  friends, 
among  whom  he  has  obtained  the  sobriquet  of  "  Old  Gay."    Be- 


45 

ing  a  very  sweet  singer  he  beguiles  many   an  idle  hour  in   this 
agreeable  pastime. 

The  old  exploded  theory  of  the  Zimzonian  world  has  proved  to 
be  no  delusion.   The  idea  of  the  earth  being  hollow,  like  a  scoop- 
ed out  pumpkin,  seemed  too  absurd  to  merit   any  degree  of  cre- 
dence, but  in  1891  Capt.  Dickinson's  exploring  expedition  round- 
ed the  North  Pole  and  entered  the  subterranean  seas.     Here 
they  found  land  peopled  by  a  degraded  race  of  dwarfish  heathen. 
Strange  to  say,  they  found  here  two  of  the  followers  of  Sir  John 
Franklin,  worshiped  as  gods  by  the  poor  pagans  of  Zimzonia. — 
Three  of  these  poor  wretches  they  brought  away,  who  now   form 
the  most  attractive  feature  of  Tom  White's  grand  travelling  Me- 
nagerie, tvhich  exhibits  under  the  especial  direction  of  its  illus- 
trious proprietor  —  "  small  boys  not  admitted."     The  three  wild 
men,  Murio,  Clio,  and  Keezan,  display  such  surprising  feats  of 
subterranean  legerdemain,   that  Mr.  White  is  often  obliged  to 
station  policemen  at  the  door  to  check  the  enthusiastic  crowd. — 
He    will  doubtless  realize  a  fortune  from   their  exhibition  ;  but 
"there's  no  knowing,  gentlemen,  how  much  depends  on  luck." 
To  that  nation  lying  in  darkness  some  of  our  zealous  divines  have 
gone,  and  among  them  the  Rev.  Samuel  Gordon  Haley,  who  has 
suspended  his  labors  as  travelling  agent  for  the   Track  Society 
for  this  more  interesting  field. 

Jackman's  sunny  j^outh  ripens  into  mellow  age,  and  I  see  him 
sitting  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  with  the  partner  of  his 
joys,  in  calm,  comfortable  contentment.  Fred.  Chase  was  lost  at 
sea,  having  undertaken  for  a  wager  to  wade  on  stilts  across  the 
Atlantic.  He  was  spoken  by  the  "  Great  Eastern"  1900  miles 
from  the  American  coast,  but  has  never  been  heard  of  since. 

I  see  Jim  Ayer,  jolly  even  in  old  age,  celebrating  the  anniver- 
sary of  Commencement  by  a  grand  spree  in  No.  6,  while  the 
ghost  of  the  departed  D.  D.  raps  his  regrets  with^a  junk  bottle 
under  the  table,  and  just  as  the  merrimeiit  reaches  its  height 
"  Bubbling  Runnels  joins  the  sound"  —  in  other  words,  ''  Nosey 
the  Dwarf"  enters,  chanting  the  "  Hebrew  Children."  Dodge 
is  the  big  man  in  a  little  town,  filling  all  ofiices  in  its  gift  with 
unction,   executing  all  its  public  duties  with  fervor,  and  reap- 


46 

ing  harvests  of   gratitude  and  love,   richer  and  more   pr  iceless 
than  *'  diamonds  of  Golgotha." 

Now,  my  beloved  Classmates,  if  1  have  foretold  a  fortune  un- 
welcome to  any  one,  let  him  remember  that  even  the  oreordain- 
ed  decrees  of  fate  are  not  absolutely  mmatable.  You  may,  in 
some  measure,  model  your  own  destiny.  I  implore  each  one  of 
you,  therefore,  now  thit  you  are  no  longer  uader  the  protecting 
influence  of  this  justly  renowned  eleemosynary  institution,  by 
which  you  have  been  held  completely  beyoad  the  reach  of  temp- 
tation, that  you  ''  make  a  prudent  choice,  and  addict  yourself  to 
study  and  adopt  a  course  of  life,  at  once  useful  to  others  and 
honorable  to  yourself ;  especially  if  there  be  one  or  other 
among  j^ou  of  good  natural  parts,  who,  urged  by  poverty,  is 
tempted  to  take  to  bad  courses,  and  so  runs  th3  risk  of  stifliug  a 
beautiful  disposition  in  the  bud."  For  the  most  part,  let  me  con- 
gratulate you  on  the  happiness  and  prosperity  in  store  for  you . 
Throughout  our  entire  course  hero  we  have  been  as  one  man  in 
heart  and  soul,  and  in  perfect  amity  we  now  part,  and  however 
widely  we  may  be  separated,  the  friendship  founded  on  so  proved 
a  basis,  and  so  matured,  will  forever  bind  us  heart  to  heart. 
While  we  refuse  to  lose  sight  of  these  grateful  claims,  we  do  not 
forget  that  the  wo:k  of  life  is  before  us.  You  have  learned,  by 
this  time,  that  no  obstacle  in  your  path  to  success  can  be  too 
great  for  you  to  overthrow.  Therefore  place  your  mark  high. 
Then  my  prophecy  for  you  shall  be  unqualified  success. 

Finally,  brethren,  be  of  good  cheer. 


47 
ODE. 

BY  JOSIAH  T.  CLOSSON. 


Air — "  3Iy  Native  Land'' 

Alma  Mater,  fare  thee  well ; 

For  we  leave  thj  tasks  and  pleasures. 

Bid  adieu  thj  classic  halls, 

Famed  for  wisdom's  priceless  treasures 

Filial  hearts  we  pledge  to  thee, 

Proud  to  own  thy  dignity. 

Thou  hast  nerved  us  for  the  fight  ; 
Now  life's  stormy  battles  calling 
Bid  us  haste  to  join  the  strife, 
'Mid  the  tried  ones  bravely  falling  ; 
Onward  —  shall  our  watchword  be, 
On  to  toil  and  victory. 

Yet  we  linger  near  thee  still : 
Grateful  memories  we  would  cherish, 
Clustering  thick  around  thy  walls — 
Memories  fond,  that  will  not  perish 
While  the  noble  and  the  free 
Numbered  with  thy  sons  shall  be. 

Friendship's  wreath  shall  ever  bind 
Kindred  hearts  in  union  nearer  ; 
Ever  shall  thy  classic  fame 
To  each  son  grow  brighter,  dearer  ; 
May  our  deeds  thy  glory  tell, 
Alma  Mater, — fare  thee  well. 


48 


ADDRESS  TO  THE  PRESIDENT. 

BY  HENRY  H.  KLMBALL. 


Honored  and  Respected 

With  mingled  emotions  of  pleasure  and  pain,  do 
I  perform  to-daj  the  duty  allotted  me  by  my  Classmates,  of  pre- 
senting to  you  our  farewell  offering. 

Althou";h  we  exult  over  obstacles  encountered  and  difficulties 
surmounted,  over  duties  discharged  and  labors  performed,  over 
battles  fought  and  victories  won  ;  although   we  rejoice  in  the 
pleasant  relations  and  friendly  intercourse  which  have  so  long 
existed  between  us,  yet  a  melancholy  sadness  steals  over  us  that 
the  tendrils  of  affection,  which  have  twined  themselves  closer  and 
closer  about  our  hearts,  as  each  succeeding  year  of  study  has  roll- 
ed away,  must  so  soon  be  severed  ;  that  the  hallowed  associations, 
on  which  memor}?-  so  fondly  lingers  and  the  tender  caresses  of  our 
"  Alma  Mater,"  must  take  their  final  exit  with  the  closing  hour 
of  College  life.     It  has  been  yours,  Sir,  to  guide,  to  counsel  and 
to  encourage,  while  others  have  conducted  us  through  the   vari- 
ous walks  of  literature  and  science.     In  groves  of  classic  learn- 
ing we  have  wandered  with  those  who  have  beheld  all  their  en- 
chanting beauties   and  drunk   deep  at   their  crystal  fountains. 
Our  "  Alma  Mater"  has  nourished  us  with  plentiful  harvests  of 
by-gone  nations,  garnered  up  in  the  rich  store-houses  of  ancient 
lore.    To  impart  solidity  and  strength  to  our  mental  constitutions 
she  has  given  us  the  severe  discipline  of  abstract  sciences,  and  to 
clothe  the  frame-work  with  symmetry  and  beauty,   she  has  dealt 
to  us  with  liberal  hand  the  luxuries  of  classic  poetry  and  polite 
literature.    She  has  imparted  to  us  secrets  which  Philosophy  has 
extorted  from  the  bosom  of  Nature,  and  borne  us  on  the    winirs 
of  Astronomy  to  distant  realms  of  space,  revealing  myriads  of 
worlds  to  our  astonished  vision.    She  has  unfolded  to  us  the  phi- 
losophy of  national  greatness,  and  taught  us  the  prhiciples  of  po- 


49 

litical  wisdom.  She  has  interpreted  the  hand-writing  which  the 
Ahnight}^  has  inscribed  upon  the  rocky  strata  of  the  earth  and 
revealed  to  us  the  working  of  the  unseen  forces  of  Nature.  She 
has  taught  our  eyes  to  look  Avithin  to  behold  tlie  greater  wonders 
of  the  world  of  thought  and  analyze  the  com})licated  structure  of 
the  human  intellect.  She  has  ministered  to  the  deeper  wants  of 
our  moral  natures  and  tauglit  us  right  principles  of  action.  She 
has  left  no  part  of  our  being  unnurtured  ;  but  moved  by  the  nat- 
ural instincts  of  parental  aifection,  she  has  not  only  strengthened 
and  invigorated  our  intellects^  but  she  has  sought  to  elevate  our 
aims,  to  chasten  our  ambition,  to  fill  the  soul  with  higher  aspira- 
tions than  the  narrow^  boundaries  of  earth  can  afford,  and  to  de- 
velope  the  germs  of  perfect  Manhood.  She  has  laid  broad  and 
deep  the  foundation  on  which  to  rear  the  structure  of  a  lifetime , 

She  has  unlocked  to  us  the  portals  of  science  and  literature 
and  given  us  a  chart  to  guide  us  through  their  mazy  labyrinths. 
She  has  shown  us  the  boundlessness  of  the  field  of  knowledge  and 
she  leaves  us  now  standing,  as  it  were,  in  the  midst  of  a  long  per- 
spective, converging  to  narrow^er  and  narrower  limits  as  we  turn 
our  eyes  backw^ard  upon  our  pathway,  but  as  we  look  onward^ 
opening  wider  and  wider,  till  the  eye  is  lost  in  the  limitless  ex- 
panse. Here  we  have  commenced  our  life-work  ;  and  should 
success  attend  us  as  we  go  forth  to  our  various  callings,  we  will 
remember  that  here  were  sown  the  seeds  which  have  ripened  to 
autumnal  harvests. 

Permit  me  then,  Sir,  as  w^e  take  this  brief  retrospect  of  our 
College  life,  as  we  waken  to-day  the  sacred  memories  of  the  past, 
as  we  recount  the  useful  teachings  of  our  "  Alma  Mater,"  as  v/e 
recall  the  lessons  of  wisdom  which  we  have  received  from  your 
lips,  the  many  and  earnest  prayers  which  you  have  offered  in  our 
behalf,  the  watchfulness  and  solicitude  with  which  you  have 
guarded  our  welfare  and  the  zeal  with  which  -you  have  labored 
for  our  good,  -  to  assure  you,  in  behalf  of  my  Classmates,  that 
those  lessons  have  not  been  unheeded  ;  that  your  watchfulness, 
your  solicitude  and  your  zeal  have  not  passed  unnoticed,  nor  have 
your  sympathy  and  affection  been  unreciprocated.  Your  wisdom, 
your  amenity,  your  kindness,  have  left  impressions  upon  our 
hearts  which  "  time's  effacing  fingers"  can  never  obliterate. 


50 

May  that  Being,  whose  just  recompense  awaits  the  faithful, 
reward  your  labors.  May  the  answers  of  your  prayers  enhance 
the  joys  of  your  future  days  ;  and  although  your  head  is  already 
xsilvered  by  the  locks  of  age,  may  many  years  yet  roll  their  cease- 
less rounds  ere  your  sun  of  life  shall  set,  and  may  its  lingering 
rays  still  illuminate  the  earth  long  after  it  has  sunk  beneath  the 
horizon  in  this,  and  risen  in  glory  in  another  sphere.  Gladly 
would  we  tarry  longer  amid  these  hallowed  scenes  and  longer 
tread  this  consecrated  ground  ;  we  would  longer  gaze  on  the 
panorama  of  the  past  and  indulge  the  emotions  aw  akened  by  its 
memories ;  but  a  voice  speaks  to  us  from  the  future,  calling  us 
to  the  sterner  duties  of  life,  and  we  hasten  to  obey  its  summons. 
We  linger  but  to  take  a  last  embrace  of  our  "  Alma  Mater"  and 
receive  her  parting  blessing.  We  pledge  to  her  the  friendship 
of  devoted  hearts,  and  supplicate  for  her  the  choicest  blessings 
Heaven  can  bestow,  as  we  now  bid  her  and  you.  Sir,  an  affec- 
tionate Farewell  ! 


SOPHOMORE  SUPPER. 


JULY  23.  1858. 


52 


By  Frederic  B.  Dodge, 


CANTO  I. 

"  Mrjviv  aside   Qia,''  sang  old  Homer, 

When  filled  was  his  mind  with  fair  Helen's  seducer, 

And  Virgil  inspired  by  the  toils  of  the  roamer, 

Breaks  forth  with  "  causas  mihi  memora,  Musa ; 

So  I,  like  the  others,  first  bowed  at  the  shrine 

Of  the  daughters  of  heaven,  poetical  "Nine," 

And  thus  I  began  :   0  Bonaa  Musae  ! 

Scribere  versos  assistite  me ; 

Descend  from  your  seats  in  tlie  no-where  of  space, 

Lend  a  listening  ear  to  my  pitiful  case  ; 

Or,  if  you  prefer,  mount  my  shoulders  astraddle. 

My  hair  for  a  bridle  and    neck  for  a  saddle  ; 

Instil  in  my  soul  the  poetical  fire, 

Attune  to  my  touch  the  long-indolent  lyre ; — 

Hist !  !  a  rustling  of  pinions  comes  soft  to  my  ear, 

Like  the  young  winds  of  Autumn ;  the  Sisters  are  here. 

Too  well  methinks  each  and  all  v/ill  remember, 
'Twere  sin  to  forget  it,  that  month  of  September, 
When  fresh  from  Academy,  glutted  with  knowledge, 
Wc  deigned  to  be  "  Freshmen,"  and  so  came  to  College. 
Freshmen  !  What  is  there  in  the  name  that  thrills 
Our  very  bosoms,  like  a  dose  of  piil;^  ? 
My  Muse  would  fain  return  and  ponder  o'er 
The  scenes  wbieh  we  at  least  shall  know  no  more. 
Oh!  what  a  fall  was  there,  my  countrymen  !  ! 
If  you  had  tears  to  shed  you  shed  them  then. 
When  having  heard  your  ''  Alma  Mater's"  "  bene," 
You  bade  adieu  and  found  yourself  a   '  Pasne," 
To-day  a  demigod,  unmeasured  bliss  ! 
To-morrow,  "pra'sto!"  tell  me  what  is  this. 
Am  I  the  stately  Senior  ?  am  I  he  ? 
The  pride,  the  boast  of  the  Academy  ? 
Flattered  by  all  and  courted  for  my  knowledge  ? 
Oh!  would  that  I  had  never  come  to  College. 
And  when  they  laughed  at  us,  and  left  their  token 
In  seats  besmeared  with  oil,  and  windows  broken, 
Then  how  we  '.oiled  in  riirhteous  indignation  !  ! 
What  mighty  plans  we  had  in  contemplation  !  ! 


53 

What  stinking  vengeance   vowed  !  Alas  ! !  Alas  ! !  ! 

We  ran.  and  left  our  bottles  in  the  grass. 

We  clothed  ourselves  in  dignity;  poor  clothing  ! ! 

We  dared  the  College,  all  ;  We  did  — just  nothing  — 

A  bright  Oasis  in  our  life,  I  ween, 

But  only  an  Oasis  in  its  grceo. 

These  days  are  now  over;  and  we'll  not  deplore  'em, 

But  scatter  the  clouds  of  forgetfulness  o'er  'em. 

And  we'll  shout  as  we   shouted,  when  Freedom  was  near, 

When  bright  shone  before  us  our  !Sophomore  year. 

'Twould  weary  your  patience  for  me  to  recall 

Half  the  deeds  we  accomplished  that  Sophomore  Fall, 

How,  eagerly  reaching  the  skirts  of  the  pagi, 

Omnes  recubantes  sub  tegmine  fagi, 

We  measured  the  angle  that  led  to  our  gullet, 

And  by  shrewd  calculations  we  labored  to  fill  it ; 

How  peanuts  and  azimuths  strangely  would  mix, 

While  the  world  still  persisted  in  calling  us  bricks, 

We  called  ourselves,  practical  Sophomore  Surveyors, 

The  name  at  least  sounded  much  better  than  theirs. 

Let  the  Common  tell  of  the  deeds  we've  done, 

Of  the  backs  we've  whacked, 

And  the  eyes  we've  blacked. 
And  the  heads  we've  cracked,  and  all  for  fun. 
And  the  brave  old  elms,  whose  lofty  forms 
Laugh  at  the  lightnings  and  the  storms, 
Would  tell  of  that  Freshman  game  of  ball, 
How  we  taught  them  that  '•  pride  must  have  a  fall"' 
When  Morrill  was  Chased,  but  Chased  in  vain, 
And  Tom  nearly  killed  by  a  violent  Paine, 
How  completely  we  humbled  bombastic  humanity, 
Too  true,  against  Sophomores  all  is  but  vanity. 
And  fain  would  I  tell  how  we  used  to  explore 
That  Antediluvian  Classical  lore. 
How  we  conquered  the  roots  with  the  aid  of  a  pony, 
A  pretty  good  nag,  but  remarkably  "  Bohny." 
But  my  Muse  still  is  silent  though  much  I  entreat  her, 
I  suppose  it's  because  she  is  not  a  "  Phi  Beta." 
Thucydides,  ^schylus,  long  may  you  dwell 
In  quiet  content  in  the  parlors  of  Hell. 
Nor  alone  in  Surveying  and  Latin  and  (xreek 
Have  we  gained  a  renown  which  'twould  tire  me  to  speak, 
But  even  as  Freshmen,  hard  boys,  bricks,  and  asses 
Were  names  we  endured  from  the  three  upper  classes 
And  the  Faculty,  thinking  no  doubt,  like  the  rest 
That  to  punish  a  few  for  example  were  best. 
Wisely  knowing  that  thus  they  must  cull  us  or  send  all, 


54 

Took  Cutter,    and  Jackson,  and  Hutchins,  and  Kendall, 

And  Worcester  Tom,  you  remember,  the  same 

Who  was  nearly  killed  in  the  Football  Game, 

Will  never  forget  that  unfortunate  night 

When  the  President  rose  to  his  mystified  sight 

And  thus  him  addressed:    Mr.  White,  you  are  tight, 

It  is  evident  quite  you've  been  drinking  of  late, 

You  may  call  at  my  study  at  half  past  eight. 

Oh  no,  Mr.  Lord;   I've  been  running  the  Common, 

[  I'he  day  for  the  season  was  rather  a  warm  one] 

And  'tis  scarcity  of  breath  that  you  notice,  not  rum, 

But  the  Prex  was  incredulous,  Tom  went  home ; 

Enough  !    enough  ! !   no  more  my  Muse 

Will  we  a  Sophomore's  ear  abuse 

By  telling  o'er  the  hope,  the  fear, 

The  verdancy  of  Freshman  year. 

A  jxiore  exalted  strain  we'll  sing, 

Which  joy  to  every  soul  shall  bring. 

Of  sorrows  over,  dangers  past. 

The  long-sought  harbor  reached  at  last  ; 

Awake  then,  and  rejoice  ;  to-night 

We've  gathered  here  with  hearts  as  light. 

Spirits  as  gay  and  free  from  care 

As  birds  that  drink  the  morning  air, 

That  Helius'  earliest  rays  caress, 

Whose  every  note  is  happiness. 

We're  free  !     We're  free  ! !     The  battle's  o'er, 

Old  Mathematics  is  no  more. 

Yes  thou  too,  Mathematics,  thou  art  gone, 

Thou  deeply  hated,  execrable  one. 

Think  you  we'll  o'er  your  ashes  weep  ?     No  !     Never  ! ! 

But  all  unite  and  row  you  up  Salt  River. 

Without  a  tear,  a  groan,  or  one  compunction, 

We'll  celebrate  your  glorious  de"function." 

Thou  pest,  thou  plague,  disturber  of  our  sleep. 

For  friends  and  not  for  enemies  we  weep, 

Thou  dids't  not  weep,  when,  mixing  up  our  brains 

With  Acres,  Angles,  Azimuths,  and  Chains, 

You  saw  us  "  flunk,"  or  answer,  unprepared, 

When  you  the  sweet,  but  we  the  bitter  shared ; 

Oh  no  !   you  laughed  ;   and  when  indulgent  Pat. 

Assistance  brought,  explaining  this  or  that, 

W^hat  horrid  shapes  appeared  before  our  gaze ! ! 

Of  sines  and  arcs,  a  Labyrinthine  Maze ! 

And  we,  poor  things  of  dust,  we  to  explore  it  ? 

Beelzebub  himself  would  shrink  before  it. 

JJie  then  accursed,  unhonored,  and  unwept. 

So  from  Creation  have  the  evil  slept. 


55 


Descend  to  Hades,  to  the  realms  below ; 
To  Tartarus,  where  Stygian  waters  flow, 
Take  your  old  Analytics,  it'  there's  room. 
You'll  need  it  all  to  "  analyze"  your  doom, 
Vour  "  Calculus,"  and  "  Calculate"  the  tears 
You'll  shed  on  this  side  "■  hell"  a  thousand  years. 
I  might  advise  to  take  your  Algebra, 
But  it'  you  do,  pray  leave  it  on  your  way, 
For  should  it  meet  Satanic  Pluto's  ken 
I  tremble  lest  he'd  send  you  back  again. 
May  Purgatoiy's  sutt'erings  be  thine, 
And  thee  to  torment  may  the  gods  consign, 
And  when  you  gaze  in  sorrow  o'er  the  Styx, 
Think  of  the  Freshman  Class  of '56, 
And  should  you  pine  and  sigh  for  nether  Heaven 
llemember  then  the  Sophs,  of  '57  ; 
Console  yourself,  rejoicing  o'er  that  page 
Of  agony,  of  long  suspense,  and  rage, 
The  trembling  fear,  the  anguish  and  the  pain 
That  we  endured  through  all  thy  barbarous  reign. 
A  reign,  though  short,  so  full  of  sighs  and  tears, 
The  hours  became  as  days,  the  days  as  years. 
May  Serpents  hiss  about  you.  Demons  roar, 
Till  hope  shall  leave  you  to  return  no  more. 
Till  peace  and  comfort  bid  a  long  adieu. 
And  nought  be  left  but  Devils,  Hell  and  you. 
May  fiends  incarnate  haunt  your  troubled  soul. 
Till  o'er  your  head  a  thousand  years  shall  roll, 
Till  Charon  kindly  row  you  to  the  shore 
Where  toil  and  care  and  sorrow  are  no  more ; 
Drown  all  the  past  in  Lethe's  placid  wave, 
Bid  all  your  ills  there  find  a  lasting  grave. 
No  stone  shall  rear  its  head  to  mark  the  place 
Where   Mathew  lies,  sole  relic  of  his  race, 
No  sculptured  index,  and  no  marble  pile 
Shall  tell  mankind  where  you  the  soil  defile ; 
But  loathed,  despised,  except  to  hate,  unknown, 
As  thou  hast  lived,  so  shalt  thou  die,  alone. 
We'll  sing  a  song  of  triumph  o'er  your  head, 
And  leave  you  there  to  slumber  with  the  dead. 


56 


CANTO  11. 

You've  all  seen  a  brook,  as  it  starts  from  the  mour.tain. 

Bidding  adieu  to  its  beautiful  fountain, 

Kissing  each  flower  that  grew  })y  its  side. 

And  hurrying  on  without  conipass  or  guide, 

Washing  the  pebbles  that  fell  in  its  way, 

And  dashing  the  roots  with  its  crystal  spray, 

Now  leaping  a  rock  and  now  split  in  its  track, 

Now  turning  aside  as  though  fain  to  go  back, 

Dashing  your  face  with  its  silvery  sheen 

As  it  hides  itself  in  a  deep  ravine. 

Washing,  and  splashing,  and  foaming,  and  pouring 

A  very  small  stream,  but  a  vast  deal  of  roaring ; 

wSo  the  Freshman,  with  mantle  of  dignity  o'er  him, 

The  goal  of  "  Phi-Beta-ship"  lying  before  him. 

Whose  only  ambition  is  all  to  surpass, 

Whatever  befall  him,  he  must  lead  his  class, 

In  bombast  unbounded,  in  knowledge  a  fraction. 

Much  talk,  like  the  brook,  but  all  talk  and  no  action. 

You've  seen  the  same  stream  as  it  came  to  the  meadow, 

Sporting  with  sunshine  and  sporting  with  shadow, 

Touching  with  crystal  the  tips  of  the  grass. 

And  laughing  aloud  in  your  face  as  you  pass, 

While  two-fold  trees  on  the  margin  grow. 

The  one  above,  and  the  other  below. 

And  the  flowers  creep  to  its  very  brink 

And  stoop,  in  ihe  limpid  wave  to  drink, 

The  birds  beguile  it  with  merry  song. 

But  the  stream  unmindful  hurries  along  ;  — 

So  Sophomores,  onward,  resistless,  but  calm, 

Delayed  by  no  peril,  beguiled  by  no  charm. 

But  the  brook  flows  on,  nor  pauses  to  sleep, 
And  grows  to  a  river,  broad  and  deep  ; 
Foi  from  every  mountain,  every  hill 
Its  bosom  is  stirred  by  a  rippling  rill, 
But  the  scene  is  changed ;  on  either  side 
Beyond  our  vision,  far  and  wide, 
No  trace  or  sign  of  life  appear. 
But  a  trackless  waste,  a  desert  drear  ; 
No  Howcrs  grow  on  the  margin  there. 
And  with  their  fragrance  fill  the  air, 
No  trees  bend  o'er  their  lofty  forms 
To  shieW  it  from  the  god  of  storms, 


57 


But  the  stream  looks  up  to  the  burning  sun, 
When  half  his  daily  course  is  run, 
8ighirg  in  sadness,  "  too  late  to  go  back," 
And  hurrying  over  its  desolate  track  ; — 
Just  so  is  the  Junior,  in  toil  and  in  sorrow. 
Impatient  of  all  things,  he  sighs  for  the  morrow. 

But,  listen  !  !   "What  music  comes  sweet  to  our  ears  i 

Ecstatic  as  e'er  was  the  hymn  of  the  spheres  ? 

'Tis  the  song  of  the  river,  a  loud  note  of  gladness, 

A  joyful  adieu  to  all  sorrow  and  sadness, 

A  welcome  to  pleasures,  and  praise  to  their  Giver. 

0  !  happy  the  song  of  this  .smooth  flowing  river  ! 

Rejoice,  and  sing  on  then,  for  changed  is  the  scene, 

This  sure  is  the  home  of  the  beautiful  Queen  — 

Above,  below,   and  on  every  hand, 

A  beautiful,  bountiful,  powerful  land  ; 

The  bowcring  elms  o'er  the  waters  meet, 

And  smile  as  they  gaze  on  the  coof  retreat, 

"Where  birds  with  their  warblings  are  filling  the  air  ; — 

The  "  Spirit  of  Beauty"  is  certainly  there. 

The  tall  waving  oak  and  the  glistening  flower 

That  shines  on  our  sight,  and  is  gone  in  an  hour.  • 

The  rocks,  and  the  rills,  and  all  nature  unite 

In  a  shout  of  thanksgiving,  of  joy,  and  delight, 

A  Paradise  earthly,  a  chorus  of  song  ; 

Nor  pauses  the  river,  but  hurries  along; — 

'Tis  the  last   year  in  College  ;  a  Senior  to  be. 

The  joy  none  can  foretell,  and  but  few  can  foresee. 

But  the  whole  is  not  yet,  for  the  stream  still  is  going, 

And  on  to  the  all-taking  sea  still  is  flowing, 

Till  finished  its  journey,  with  little  commotion, 

It  plunges,  and  buries  itself  in  the  ocean  ; — 

So  we,  when  the  duties  of  College  are  o'er 

When  the  places  that  knew  us  shall  know  us  no  more, 

When  reached  is  the  goal  of  our  four  years  of  strife, 

When  broad  lies  before  us  the  ocean  of  life  ; 

Fear  not  then,  but  confident,  still  labor  on, 

The  stream  never  stops  till  its  journey  is  done. 


58 


i*iiocEM:iu]vr. 

By  James  0.  Scripture. 


Air —  Co  ca-che-lunk. 

Sophomores,  hue  eamus, 

Facinus  agendum  est, 
Et  DOS  fratres  faciamus 

Temporis  dum  satis  est. 

Chorus. — Anni  duo  terminantur, 

Mathematica  non  sunt 
Sophomores,  gloriantur, 
Semi-cursum  finiunt. 

Rerum  mathematicarum 
Nihil  curae  nobis  jam  ; 

Nihil  neque  formularum 
Molestarum  etiam. 

Ita  pyras  inferamus 

Hostem  suo  loculo ; 
Triumphantes  attollamus 

Cantus  summo  gaudio. 

Facundissimus  narrato 

Ut  pugnatum  fuerit, 
Super  hoste,  declarato 

Quam  austere  vixerit. 

Flammae  pyram  involventes 

Punus  hoc  abripiant ; 
Pauci  cineres  manentes 

Urnam  tum  accipiant. 

Ad  id  tempus,  Sophomores 

Seduli  fuerimus ; 
Tum,  immunes  Juniores 

Auspicato  erimus. 


59 

SON  a. 

By  1)anifl  G.  Rollins,  Jr. 


Air — Mountain  Maid's  Invitation. 

Come,  come,  come ! 
We  who  round  this  table  stand 
Are  a  brave  and  happy  band, 
Firmly  bound,  in  heart  and  hand, 

By  affection's  bond. 
Free  from  Mathematics'  snare. 
We'll  forget  our  every  care ; 
Junior  year  —  we'll  soon  be  there, 

Let  us  not  despond. 

Come,  come,  come ! 
Differentials  we  have  past, 
Functions  all  are  gone  at  last, 
Formulae  are  now  outcast. 

Chase  —  it  is  no  more. 
So  we'll  join  in  revelry. 
With  our  hearts  brimful  of  glee. 
We  will  happy,  happy  be  — 

All  these  ills  are  o'er. 

Come,  come,  come ! 
While  within  his  clutch  we've  been. 
Few  Phi  Betas  have  we  seen ; 
But,  to-night  we  all  convene. 

Him  to  overthrow. 
Class  of  '60,  we'll  unite, 
By  our  torches'  glaring  light. 
To  perform  the  funeral  rite,  — 

Burn  our  captive  foe. 

Come,  come,  come ! 
When  his  form  the  flames  consume, 
Lighting  up  the  midnight  gloom, 
Then  and  there  he'll  meet  his  doom, 

In  the  grave  be  cast. 
Ne'er  shall  our  dislike  abate, 
Neer  shall  we  lament  his  fate, 
That  the  stern  old  reprobate 

Conquered  lies  at  last. 


60 

soisra. 

By  Luther  C.  Morse. 


Air — *'  Happy  are  we  to-night.'" 

The  nymph  of  joj  presides  to-night, 

She  graces  Vict'ry's  arms  ; 
The  merry  wine  doth  sparkle  bright, 

"  Go  in"  for  festal  charms. 
Chorus. — Happy  are  we  to-night,  boys, 
Happy,  happy  are  we  ; 
Now  we've  been  through  the  fight,  boys", 
We  hold  our  jubilee. 
To-night  we've  met  to  shout  and  laugh 

O'er  scenes  we've  left  behind  ; 
To  smile  all  round  to  each  giraffe^ 

And  cheer  each  Freshman  grind. 
We  meet  to  chuckle  o'er  the  dead, 

And  revel  in  our  din  ; 
And  ere  the  frolic-hour  is  sped, 

"  See  where  the  laugh  comes  in." 
The  college  farce  is  half  played  out, 

Old  Mathew's  left  the  desk ; 
We  only  lose,  when  he's  laid  out, 

The  hero  of  burlesque. 
And,  now  he's  dead,  let  curses  cease, 

The  flames  will  do  the  rest ; 
Luck  lend  him  speed  to  find  in  peace 

The  Iblands  of  the  Ble^it. 


SO  isra. 

By  Luther  C.  Morse. 


Air — Old  Grimes. 
Oome,  let  us  drink  to  Junior  ease, 

So  pleasant  and  so  near ; 
Cut  when  we  please,  lie  under  trees, 

And  doze  away  the  year. 
Examination  —  never  mind  — 

Ignore  a  theme  so  drear  ; 
We  went  it  blind,  io  flunks  resigned, 

But  will  not  have  them  here. 
This  prosy  life  we  now  put  off, 

And,  for  a  time,  are  free ; 
Let  every  Soph,  his  duties  doff, 

And  spree  it  merrily. 


61 


By  Lyman  13,   How. 


Matuew  Matio3  was  a  pest,  it  must  be  confessed ; 

Ho  used  to  like  to  plague  us,  accordin' ; 
Could  he  only  make  us  grieve,  he  would  laugh  in  his  sleeve ; 

But  he's  gone  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus. — Away  with  your  cards^awX  down  with  your  sleeve, 
There's  no  more  danger  o^  flunking,  I  believe. 

He  used  to  have  a  wife  —  the  plague  of  our  life  — 

Her  name  was  Anna  Lytical,  accordiu' ; 
She  used  to  like  to  bore  us,  and  try  to  come  it  o'er  us; 

But  she's  gone  to  t!ie  other  side  of  Jordan. 

He'd  a  son  —  so  they  say  —  whose  name  was  Alger  Bray, 

But  the  last  time  we  saw  him,  accordin', 
In  Charon's  boat  he  sat,  with  a  ticket  in  his  hat 

Marked,  "  Through  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan." 

Now  Charon  had  knowledge,  —  for  he'd  been  thro'  college 

And  studied  Navigation,  accordin' ; 
So  he  struck  a  Biiumb-line  in  double  quick  time, 

And  took  him  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

He'd  a  short-lived  relation,  with  a  big  appellation  — 

Sir  Veying  was  his  title,  accordin' ; 
He  took  a  short  airing,  but  soon  reverseU  his  hearing. 

And  started  for  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

One  night  Mathew  Matics  was  attacked  with  rheumatics, 

And  the  doctor  was  sent  for,  accordin' ; 
But  he  gave  up  the  case,  for  Mat  had  run  his  race, 

And  was  bound  for  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

But  he  travelled  very  slow,  for  he  didn't  want  to  go, 
And  he  didn't  want  to  leave  us,  acccordin' ; 

At  the  very  last  station,  he  cried,  "  Examination," 
Then  left  for  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

But,  now  they  have  gone,  let  us  all  take  a  horn^ 

And  all  have  a  good  time,  accordin' ; 
Drink  peace  to  their  ashes,  in   lemonade  smashes, 

For  they've  gone  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 


62 

The  Soph,  year  has  passed,  the  end's  come  at  last, 

And  we'll  soon  be  Juniors,  accordin'; 
We'll  have  Hi  Drostatics  instead  of  Mathew  Matics, 

Who  has  gone  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

According  to  my  knowledge,  we're  half  through  college, 
But  we  won't  mind  the  other  half,  accordin', 

But  go  into  ecstatics  over  old  Wathew  IVIatics, 
Who  has  gone  to  the  other  side  of  Jordan. 

Chorus. — Put  on  vour  coat   and  roll  down  your  sleeve, 

There  's  no  Mathew  Matics   to  battle,  I  believe. 


S  OlSTGI-. 

By  Geokge  H.  Chandler. 


Air — "  Vive  Vamcury 
Come,  Sophomores,  shout,  for  the  battle  is  o'er, 

For  Loomis'  inventions  can  harm  us  no  more, 
A6eA.<ioL  adETE, 
Chorus — (i'l'Aoi  uSete,       {bis) 

Mv^'Ofiog  KTiaiETEy     {bis) 
A6s7i<poi  K.  T.  A. 

Synthetic  division  is  now  at  an  end. 
Binomial  The'rem  to  Hades  we'll  stnd. 

M.  Sturm — cursed  Frenchman — is  finished  at  last, 
The  days  of  Maclaurin  and  Taylor  arc  past. 

Old  Chase  we  have  met,  and  have  conquered  him  too, 
But  flunks  were  abundant  and  0.  B's  few. 

We've  finished  equations  of  every  degree, 
We  know  every  value  of  cos.-  v. 

Far  be  it  from  us  to  shed  e'en  a  tear. 

As  the  foe  we  have  vanquished  lies  powerless  her«. 

0  this  is  the  time  for  joy  and  for  glee, 

From  "  Wathew's"  dominie n  we  ever  are  free. 


C3 


D I R  a  E. 

By  Cecil  F.  P.  Bancroft. 


J^QXets  2!mEh>iai  too  TtevdsoL,  (tQyeis.  Molaai.'' 

Air — PleyeVs  Hymn. 

Slowly,  softly,  comrades,  tread 
Round  the  vanquished  hero's  bed ; 
Lay  his  dust  in  depths  profound, 
Leave  him  in  the  cold,  cold  ground. 

Naiads,  come,  your  wailings  lend. 
Dryads,  from  your  elms  descend. 
Tell  your  grief  in  mournful  song; 
Echo,  all  their  notes  prolong. 

Breezes,  flushed  by  summer's  heat, 
Requiems  o'er  his  tomb  repeat ; 
Solemn  as  the  ocean's  surge. 
Wintry  storm-blasts,  chant  his  dirge. 

Nobly,  hero,  didst  thou  stand, 
Ficrhtino;  with  a  numerous  band  ; 
Nobly,  hero,  didst  thou  fall, 
Forced  by  Fate's  imperious  call. 

When  we  met  thee  as  our  foe, 
Nought  but  anger  did  we  know  ; 
Here  we  lose  all  bitterness, 
Touched  by  woe  so  measureless. 

Now,  O  Earth,  his  ashes  hide, 
Hermes,  be  the  wanderer's  guide, 
Through  Tartarean  realms  of  gloom, 
Lead  him  to  the  heroes'  hon^g. 

"   A/ 


64 


s  o  isr  a. 

By    JaJJJS    0.    SCIUPTURE. 


AiK — ''  Midnii^ht  Hour" 


The  parting  bcur  at  length  draws  nigh; 

Our  farewell  «  ng  we  now  must  raise 
Beneath  the  sombre  midnight  sky, 

Lit  by  our  torches'  blaze. 

CiiOKUS  -  Then  let  us  raise  in  joyous  song, 

Our  parting  words  of  hope  and  cheer, 
Till  morning  hours,  our  joy  prolong, 
O'er  labors  ended  here. 

Our  toilsome'course  is  ended  now, 

The  festive  hall  has  known  our  mirth, 
The  blazing  pyre  has  smouldered  low, 

The  foe  lies  'neath  the  earth. 

That  dreary  course  its  end  has  met  ; 

Our  breasts,  however,  heave  no  sigh, 
Though  heartily  we  all  regret) 

To  bid  Prof.  "Pat."  '-Good-bye." 

The  lighted  hall  our  joy  bespoke, 

As  we,  by  laugh  and  song,  confessed 
How  gladly  we  'd  thrown  off  the  yoke 

That  on  our  necks  had  pressed. 

Through  heavens  that  darkly  o'er  us  hang, 
Our  pale  white  flames  have  sped  their  way, 

Yet  higher  lose  the  songs  we  sang 
For  victory  to-day. 

The  ashes  in  their  urn  repose, — 

The  urn  within  its  grave  may  rest  ; 
For  he  that  's  slain,  of  all  our  foes 

Was  far  the  bitterest. 

All,  then,  is  done  ;  the  year  has  past. 

And  all  its  toils  and  pleasures  too, 
Till  Juniors  we  'vc  become,  at  last, 

With  half  our  studies  through. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILL  NOIS-URBANA 


3  0112  105724816 


